A Child's Game
by Nyame
Summary: When Nigel Uno died, he was eighty-years old, surrounded by his loving wife and family. When Nigel Uno woke up, it was to a time long past - and a world he had long since left behind. Time Travel AU
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

Chapter 1: The Beginning

When Nigel Uno dies, he is eighty years old.

His wife is clasping his hand as tightly as his old bones can handle. His three children are surrounding him, speaking words he can no longer hear. At the foot of his bed, he can see all his beloved grandchildren, watching with sad eyes. They are too young for this, he thinks, but he cannot bear to keep them away in his last moments.

It is a peaceful death. He can't think of one better than that.

* * *

Nigel expected a lot of things when he awoke again. Fluffy clouds, glowing babies with wings, golden gates – and hopefully not fire and brimstone and _Grim_.

He certainly did not expect to wake up as a five-year-old again.

* * *

It took all his self-control not to scream when he saw himself in the mirror. He was short, _painfully_ short, and he had _hair_. On his _head_. Nigel had been bald for over seventy years, so the sight of the brown follicles on his cranium, arranged in an appealing shape, was foreign and _wrong_. His hair fell over his eyes, obstructing his sight in a way it hadn't been obstructed for a long time. He was almost tempted to have it shaved but realized that would alarm his parents. He'd just have to settle for a shorter hairstyle at his next trip to the barber.

As he went downstairs for breakfast, he peaked at the calendar next to the stairs. The last week of August. If Nigel was correct, then he would be attending his first day of kindergarten in a week. One more week until he met Hoagie and Abby. Kuki and Wally, they'd be in the other class – but maybe…

The memories were starker, clearer than they had been in years. Now that he was no longer in a decaying body, he could remember his childhood, or at least all the major events. The KND was prominent in all of them, and every emotion that came with it. Nigel did not know how to feel about that; while he had been almost fanatically devoted to the KND for the latter half of his childhood, as he entered adolescence his views on the organization had become more nuanced, which was perhaps for the best. It was that fanatic devotion that had won him the GKND promotion and, well…the less said about that, the better.

But no matter. He could think about that when he reunited with his future friends. Now, it was time to figure out how to act like a five-year-old again.

* * *

When he arrived to Gallagher Elementary, Nigel realized there was one critical flaw in his plan.

 _How the bloody hell am I going to befriend a bunch of five-year-olds?_

He was an adult stuck in a kid's body, and that was trial enough. Befriending his lifelong friends when they were considerable less mature was a beast that he didn't even know how to _begin_ to tackle, especially when they would have considerably different personalities. Wally was, well, a moron at this age, as well as a bully (even if he was a relatively noble one); Kuki was a hyperactive ditz whose raging obsession with Rainbow Monkeys was outward rather than inward; and Hoagie was a glut with bad jokes and self-deluded "smoothness." The only one he didn't foresee having problems with was Abby, and she had always been the most well-adjusted and, well, sanest out of all of them. Some candy and snark and she'd be at least interested, if nothing else.

Not for the first time, he had realized that he had bitten off more than he could chew. But what choice did he have? His entire childhood had revolved around them and the Kids Next Door in its entirety, and it was their steady presence that had stabilized him when he returned to Earth. He _needed_ his friends, if only for the familiarity they provided, because they were some of the only constants he had in his ever-changing life.

He'd just have to wing it. Not an all too foreign concept.

Nigel broke away from his thoughts as he entered the classroom, internally wincing at the sight of the childish aesthetics of the room. Everything was bright and colorful, perhaps too much so. But children never were one to see the appeal more muted colors, so Nigel would just have to get used to it for the next eight years. He moved to the side and looked around the room, spotting a number of faces he recognized. Off in the corner was Fanny Fulbright, staring lovingly at a boy talking to another girl in the front. Another boy – Herbie? – was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg.

He looked and looked and finally – pay dirt.

Abby was sitting in the middle of the throng, twiddling her thumbs. Without her distinctive red hat (most likely still in the possession of Cree), she had been harder to pick out of the crowd, considering how short they all were. But it was undeniably her; he'd know her anywhere.

Just as he was about to go to her, he spotted the other person he'd been looking for. Hoagie was much easier to find than Abby, his beloved aviator's cap having been with him since toddlerhood and helping him stand out. Unlike Abby, he looked considerably more nervous, eyes darting to and from every inch of the room.

Nigel frowned at that. Even at this age, Hoagie had never been lacking in confidence. Granted, his confidence was often used to support a false bravado of sophistication and charm, but still – it was rare to see Hoagie like this, jittery, almost _afraid_. The sight of it caused him to change direction in his plans. He originally planned on making contact with Abby first, get her support and then reach for Hoagie and then, during one cross-class exercises, Wally and Kuki, but switching the first two wouldn't change much.

Mind made up, Nigel walked up to the boy who, in another life, was his best friend. As he approached, Hoagie finally caught sight of him, and the other boy's eyes widened. There was a hint of _something_ in his gaze, something Nigel couldn't quite place. Idly noting it and then shoving it to the side, Nigel spoke.

"Hi there, I'm Nigel!" He smiled brightly.

Hoagie tilted his head and returned the smile with a small grin of his own. "I'm Hoagie. Wanna go sit with me?"

"Sure!"

As he and Hoagie looked for an open spot on the carpet, Nigel briefly made eye contact with Abby. She was staring at them – both of them – but for a moment, he could've sworn her eyes were lingering on Hoagie.

 _Huh_.

* * *

He's careful to act like the small child he's supposed to be, only speaking when asked and doing as the teacher says. He catches himself before he uses too many big words, forces incorrect grammar into his sentences, and he likes to think he's successful. It's become automatic, putting on this mask for the rest of the world to see, but it is also stifling. He misses his friends, his family, and the ones he'll have now – they won't quite be the same. Just like him.

Eventually, after an hour and a half of mindless introductions and icebreakers, it's finally time for recess. When he and Hoagie get outside, he feels a wave of nostalgia wash over him. The last he saw of this school, the old concrete playground of Gallagher Elementary had been torn down and replaced with fake grass and newer, safer equipment. While he couldn't quite condone the inherent danger of this place, the sight of it did comfort him – and saddened him. It was just a reminder that he really was stuck in the past.

He and Hoagie are, oddly enough, both content not to run around for once. They find an untouched corner where a pair of unused swings are, and instead play with those. Nigel is just happy they're getting along so well, so when Hoagie offers him the first run of it, Nigel agrees. The rush of wind, the cold chains clasped in his hands, the feeling of _freedom_ …how long ago has it been since he's felt this? The joy of no responsibilities weighing him down? Even as he entered retirement age, the world was never quite able to let him go, imposition up imposition on him and his family and his friends.

He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here at all, but he could not deny that it wasn't all that terrible. A second chance at a childhood, at _life_ , could never be an entirely dreadful thing.

After riding the swings for fifteen or so minutes, he and Hoagie sat down on one of the benches near the outskirts of the old jungle gym, thoroughly out of breath and laughing. Their young bodies, untrained and untested, did not have the stamina to keep up constant activity for a long time. Jubilant in a way he hadn't been a long time, it could only be forgiven that Nigel let something slip.

"Lucky we didn't break the concrete. Last thing we need is a well of salad oil to spring out and ruin recess for us."

The moment the words left his lips, his eyes widened, and he immediately slapped both his hands over his mouth before he said anymore. He looked to Hoagie, expecting confusion and bewilderment.

But no.

Hoagie's own eyes were wide behind his aviator's helmet, and, to Nigel's own confusion, his lip began to quiver, before taking a deep breath and making his own reply.

"Or prune juice. Prune juice would suck too."

Nigel dropped his hands from his face, shocked. Hoagie was staring at him hopefully, and Nigel felt himself smiling, brighter than he had ever since he had awoken back in this long-gone time.

"You two better keep your voices quiet. If the principal figures this out, we'll be working our butts off until middle school."

Startled, they looked up – and saw Abby standing and looking down on them, a knowing and wistful expression on her face. At the sight of her, Nigel felt his heart swell with the kind of elation that only a child could feel.

He wasn't alone.

* * *

Once recess was over, they were lined up and walked back to the classroom. The three of them had clustered together, too relieved to see each other to separate just yet. As they entered the room, they noticed the number of occupants had doubled in size; it appeared that the other kindergarten class had been brought in, so they could meet their year mates.

Looking over the mass of screaming kids, a gesture from Abby had their eyes landing on the two people they wanted to see the most. Wallabee Beatles and Kuki Sanban were huddled together like two partners-in-crime, whispering to each other, a little too close for two kids who had just met today. The pair spot the trio at the same moment, and it's like lightning, an electric and heady and floaty feeling afterwards.

They meet somewhere in the middle, and never let each other go.

* * *

Monty Uno hummed as he waited right outside the front of Gallagher Elementary for the tell-tale sound of the half-day bell. Beside him, his wife Agatha was grabbing his arm firmly, and only the slightest tremble betrayed her nerves. It was their son Nigel's first day of school, and they were waiting to take him home and – hopefully – meet some of the friends he made.

He could hardly believe his son was already five years old. It seemed like it was just yesterday when he and Agatha had welcomed their boy into the world. Life had gone by in a blur since – before they knew it, they had moved to America to start a new life in a new country, in an odd house with a large tree sticking out of it. Nigel had seemed to have adapted well enough to his new circumstances, though his accent meant he didn't mesh well with some of the kids that lived nearby. Perhaps at school, he'd meet some friends who wouldn't mind the odd sound of his voice.

Both he and Agatha couldn't help but worry for their son. Lately, Nigel had seemed to act a bit differently. He was careful with his words, he acted a bit more maturely and independently than a child his age should, and most of all, he was far more respectful of them than he previously was. Sometimes, he would look at them as if he really couldn't believe they were here. It was both heartening and distressing, seeing their son act like this, but he seemed to be better lately, so they had let it go. They hoped that was the right choice.

 _BRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNG!_

At the sound of the bell, all the parents perked up. Led by their teachers, the kindergarteners walked outside in a line; once they spotted their guardians, however, they all sprinted down the stairs to the familiar weights of their parents. Monty and Agatha looked around for the familiar brunette hair of their son, but the mass of children chattering and running about was making it difficult.

"Mom! Dad!"

Nigel's familiar voice called out to them, and they whipped their heads towards his direction. Nigel was jogging towards them with an uncharacteristically wide grin on his face. Behind him, a gaggle of children – two boys and two girls – were keeping pace with him, laughing.

The couple shared a smile. Looks like their worries were for nothing.

* * *

The next few weeks followed by in a daze of playdates and childhood wonder. The five friends were thick as thieves straight from the beginning, much to the astonishment and amusement of their respective parents. It wasn't hard to act their physical age around each other; their entire lives, they had been tied together, no matter where or when they were.

However, one day on a normal weekend, they had been jolted from their illusion and reminded of their true situation while on a trip to the park. Abby's parents had elected to bring with them a couple of tagalongs with them: to be more specific, the current Sector V – including a nine-year-old Cree Lincoln.

Cree had never found out about the Teens Next Door in the previous timeline, as far as they were aware; if she ever had, it was wiped away from her mind when she had finally been captured and decommissioned. The members of Sector V had made peace with their second-in-command's sister as a result of that, and she became a good, if not particularly close, friend – one they had all mourned for when she passed a scant few years before her sister.

Cree's presence – and Maurice's for that matter – was a reminder of the reality they were in. They weren't five-year-olds, at least not in mind, and they still had a future fraught with danger to deal with. A future that had been passed and was now theirs again.

A future they couldn't avoid, no matter what they did.

* * *

Thankfully, Sector V had ulterior motives for joining in on Abby's play date. There were reports of villainous activity around the park, and Global Command had sent them in to investigate, allowing the future Sector V to stay away on their lonesome, in sight but away from prying ears.

"Should we go back?"

The question had come from Wally's mouth. He was swinging his legs from a low tree branch, next to Kuki. Hoagie and Abby were sitting together on another branch on the same tree, while Nigel was leaning against the trunk, watching their predecessors scour for any enemies.

"We're not kids anymore. Not really." He continued, contemplative.

"The Kids Next Door might be for kids." Nigel said, nostalgic. "But it's not exactly a kid organization. They're paramilitary – with all the trappings that come with it. It wouldn't be hard for us to fall back into those roles."

"But still, it's been years since we've been a part of that world. And while a lot of it was good –"

"–A lot of it was bad, too." Abby finished Wally's statement, a little wistful. "Abby understands what you mean, Wally, but we've really don't have a choice. Or, at least I don't – Cree will definitely ask if I want to join in the next two years, and there's no way I'll be able to tell her no. I want these last few years with my sister and me on good terms before…" _…she grows up._

"Plus, there's still the timeline to consider." Hoagie chimed in. At everyone's quizzical looks, he sighed. "The more changes we make, the more unpredictable our future becomes. While some of the changes we make are good, they could also lead to unintended consequences – things we set in motion because we weren't careful enough with our meddling. Not joining the KND, for example, might result in the organization's actual destruction – because we all know how many times we've had to save the day before it all fell to pieces. And that will not be a good thing, not as long as we're under the age of thirteen."

"We've already changed the timeline though, haven't we?" Kuki pointed out. "I mean, we weren't all friends yet at this age, at least not this close. It wasn't until the KND that we became as tight as we are now. How much more damage can we do?"

As the debate continued, Nigel continued to watch the current Sector V, thinking. He had been silent ever since his initial statement, lost in his memories. And while his friends might have been conflicting over whether or not to repeat their childhoods as they were, his mind was already made up.

"I'm rejoining the KND."

His announcement caught everyone's attention.

"It's the only way I can find Rachel again." He explained. "We met thanks to the KND. I can't stand the idea of her not being in my life."

Everyone else shared a look. Abby, always the biggest one of them all, was the one to speak. "Nigel…she might not have come back with us." She spoke gently, carefully.

Nigel shrugged. "I know. I don't care. It'll be enough, just to be her friend."

Another exchange of looks, and then a collective sigh. "Well, I guess we're all going then." Abby concluded.

"Should we join now? Or later?" Kuki wondered.

"Chad's the current commander of the Arctic Base, isn't he?" Hoagie noted. Nigel visibly winced at the sound of Chad's name. Even into adulthood, the tension in their relationship had remained, which had made things more awkward when Chad married Nigel's cousin, Eva. While they could be civil with each other, everyone, including their wives, knew better than to leave them alone in the same room together.

Wally nodded. "He should be. But that doesn't matter – Kuki's right. Should we join now?"

Abby leaned against the trunk of the tree, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I don't know. Technically, at this age an operative can only get into the cadet program with a recommendation from an entire Sector, opposed to a single recommendation for ages seven and above. Even then, operatives that young have to go through frequent training periods at the Arctic Base, so they can handle the more difficult missions when they get older, or so they can take on higher-ranked posts as they get closer to their twilight years."

Kuki and Hoagie blinked. Having never held leadership positions pertaining to the cadet program, they were not familiar with the workings of recruitment. "Why is that?" Hoagie asked his future wife, perplexed.

Nigel was the one who answered. "It's because children recommended below the age of seven tend to be the cream of the crop, the best of the best. The most dedicated of all Kids Next Door. The vast majority of Soopreme Leaduhs were operatives who were recommended below the age of seven, including Numbuh 100, Chad, and Rachel. It's actually very rare to find operatives as good as them that were recommended over that age."

Wally nodded. "He's right. When I was Commander of the Arctic Base, my best students were all below the age of seven. Not a single one of them went traitor, and most joined the Teens Next Door after their decommissioning ceremonies. At least two of them were also Soopreme Leaduhs."

"So, if we join now, we'll have more eyes on us." Kuki concluded, thinking. "…Do we want that?"

"It depends. On one hand, we'll be taken more seriously from the get-go and get more training, which allows us to reach our previous levels faster – or at least as much as our current bodies can handle. On the other hand, we'll be watched closely, and people might be suspicious to how fast we take to things. Not to mention, it'll be another massive divergence to the timeline, and the consequences we won't see for several years."

As Nigel narrated the two possible choices, the four kindergartners immediately started thinking of what they'd choose. But before they could voice their thoughts out loud, a crash caught all their attentions.

* * *

Cree groaned and rubbed the back of her head, sitting up from her prone position on the ground. Of all the villains in town, why was _Potty Mouth_ of all people at the park?

"Hehehehe! Ya dumb Kids Next Door! Did ya think a bunch of brats like you could stop me, the winner of the best toilet-based villain of the year award!?" Potty Mouth shouted to the high heavens, using a pair of scrubbers to block Maurice's chili-shots.

8a blinked from where he was hanging from a tree, tied up with toilet paper. "Isn't he the _only_ toilet-based villain in America? And the rest of the world, for that matter?"

His brother, 8b, also tied up on an opposite branch, shrugged. "I think so. Though there's rumors about this new guy in the game that's been terrorizing Sector W. Calls himself the Termi-toilet or something like that…"

"A LITTLE HELP HERE!" Maurice cut into the conversation, still trying to fend off the villain with everything he had.

"We'd love to help you, Numbuh 9, but we're kinda TIED UP RIGHT NOW!" The Numbuhs 8 shouted in unison at their teammate.

"I've got you guys!" Cree yelled back, climbing up the tree as fast as she possibly could. Just as she was about to reach them, however, a scream pierced through all the chaos. Potty Mouth had found an opening and had thrown a portable vial of toilet water into Maurice's face. The stricken operative collapsed to his back, coughing and sputtering, trying to get the rancid taste out of his mouth.

"MAURICE!" His three teammates shouted worriedly.

"Hehehehe!" Potty Mouth laughed. "Now to finish you doody heads off!" He picked up a hose, which was connected to the deep reservoir of sewage down the street (part of his evil plan to flood the park with waste and turn it into a toilet-based haven) and aimed it straight at Cree.

But before he could act on his threat, a loud, high-pitched yell caught everyone's attention – or more specifically, the collective battle cries of five righteous kindergartners. Shocked at the sight, Potty Mouth did nothing as Kuki used her hair pin to cut the hose so pivotal to his plans. By the time he had the mind to react, he was unable to block Wally's flying kick. He stumbled back, tripping over Hoagie's couched form, into the waiting fists of Nigel and Abby.

The barrage was too much. While their bodies may have been smaller and not as strong, the five friends had enough experience to make their hits count. Potty Mouth collapsed onto the ground, muttering to himself in a daze of near unconsciousness.

Sector V, stunned, blinked in disbelief as the five kindergartners celebrated their victory.

Cree was the first to break out of her trance, and with a scream of "ABBY!" she dropped to the ground and ran to her sister, quickly pulling her into a hug and checking her over for injuries.

The twin 8s, knowing they had been abandoned, shouted a loud "HEY!" and were summarily ignored.

* * *

Once the chaos died down and a sheepish Cree finally cut down her teammates, the current Sector V met their saviors with stern looks on their faces.

"What were you thinking!?" Cree scolded the five of them. The group of friends had the decency to look slightly abashed, even if they hadn't regretted their actions. "Do you realize how dangerous that was?"

"He was gonna hurt you, Cree!" Abby explained, her friends nodding along. "We couldn't let that happen!"

With a groan, Cree pinched the bridge of her nose. "Abby, it's my job to protect you, not the other way around. It's my job, as your big sister. Sometimes I'm gonna get hurt, sis, and there's not much you can do about it."

Abby crossed her arms. "Well, that's not gonna stop me from trying."

"Or us." Nigel stepped forward, mirroring his friend. The others followed suit, forming a united front. Sector V blinked at the sight. "You're our friend's sister, and that makes you our friend too. And we'll always protect our friends, no matter what."

Cree sighed at the declaration. Maurice eyed them with a contemplative look, before tapping his Sector Leader on the shoulder, whispering into her ear. Ignoring the five younger children for a few minutes, Sector V huddled up together, whispering furiously. Eventually, they seemed to reach an agreement over whatever they were arguing over, turning their attentions back at the other group.

"Alright then." Cree said, smirking. "If you're that determined, then I guess I can't stop you. But that doesn't mean I can't help you."

"…What exactly do you mean by that?" Nigel asked, suspicion creeping up at him. If she was saying what he thought, she was saying…

"I've already told Abby about this, and since you're her friends, it wouldn't hurt to tell you. Tell me, have you four ever heard of the Kids Next Door?"

The kindergartners blinked and shared a collective look. It seemed the choice they were debating over had already been made for them.

* * *

A new fic? Yeah. I've hit a writer's block regarding _To Hell and Back_ , partially because I've gotten back into the Kids Next Door fandom. So, the best way to get it all out is to write out my ideas, and this is one of them.

Don't worry, people – I am never abandoning THAB. But I'm scrambling for inspiration and drive, and I think the best way to deal with that is to just wait and take my mind off it for a while.

As for this story – this is a first for the Kids Next Door fandom. An actual peggy sue story with canon divergences. The main pairings are 1/362, 2/5, 3/4, and a hint of 274/10. It will be at least 5 chapters long (at most 10-15), but the length of the chapters will usually be pretty lengthier than my usual fare. I've already started on Chapter 2, so if you Arrowverse fans also like this old cartoon, and go ahead and read away.

Special thanks to my new beta, Kara Smoak, for proofreading this!


	2. Chapter 2: The Academy

Chapter 2: The Academy

The chill of the Cadets Next Door Arctic Academy was both foreign and familiar, even only for the bite of cold that was chapping their skins. Up onstage, Numbuh 100 was giving a welcoming speech, explaining what would be happening here at the Academy, emphasizing the importance of the KND's cause and the duties that came with being one of the organization's operatives. It suddenly struck Nigel that Numbuh 100 would actually be their Soopreme Leaduh for the next couple of years – that it would be him, not Chad, that would be giving them missions and orders. Of all of his friends, only Abby had that experience, and even then, it wasn't for long; Numbuh 100 had been decommissioned only a week or so after Nigel had graduated from the Academy the first time around. He wondered what 100 would be like as a leader, if he would be like Chad or Rachel. It would certainly be interesting, if nothing else.

His team, having long-since mastered the art of multi-tasking during a speech, were looking around the large mass of recruits, searching for some recognizable faces. Nigel had already done his own scan before the speech; while many of this class were a part of his memory, most weren't. That wasn't unexpected, the Academy was extremely difficult, and a large percentage of recruits never made it through training, lacking the will and determination to continue the harsh regimen. The process was deeply selective, ensuring that only the best of the best made it through – with a few exceptions.

Nigel broke from his thoughts when the applause started, adding his own to the throng. Numbuh 100 gave a flourished wave, then waited for the sound to die down. As the last of the clapping finished, the current Soopreme Leaduh cleared his throat.

"Now, let's get this started. First, give another round of applause for your head instructor, the current Commander of Arctic Base and a former student of mine…Numbuh 274!"

Cheers rang out as the ever-memorable visage of Chad Dickson appeared. Nigel half-heartedly clapped alongside his friends, mind going elsewhere.

The complicated ball of feelings that was so firmly associated with Chad had reared its ugly head, and Nigel couldn't help but examine it. As a child, Chad had been one of his heroes, up there with Numbuh 0, as well as a friend and mentor that he had held dear to his heart. The memory of his betrayal was tinged with an unbearable pain, and even learning the truth had done nothing to quell that. While Chad wasn't a traitor, the way he had acted that day and a little after during their brief time together in the GKND had sobered Nigel to his former idol's negative qualities. It had been both a blessing and a curse, to remember that beneath the visage of the heroic Numbuh 274 had been the very human Chad Dickson.

After that whole mess in space, he and Chad had reached an understanding, but only just. Their friendship never recovered from the damage, and there had been tension between them every time they met for the rest of their lives. Bare civility was all anyone could hope for in the family, and thankfully, that was all they had ever asked for. The two of them were too proud to clear the air between them; a fact that Nigel had regretted in his later years and had been unable to remedy when Eva died, and Chad followed her soon after, broken by his grief.

Maybe things could be different, this time around.

Nigel watched as his one-time mentor made his speech, noting the phrasing was a little too advanced for some of the kids here. That was hardly surprising; Chad was an overachiever for practically all his life, in nearly everything he did. Even his height was towering at this age, standing a full head over even some of the oldest recruits, who, by his own calculations should be the same age as Chad was right now, if not older.

Numbuh 274 paused briefly in his speech to overlook the crowd. Nigel watched him turn his head slowly, and could've sworn, if only for a moment, that his gaze had lingered on them – and on him in particular. Finally, the speech drew to a close, and they were dismissed for lunch and to get their postings, which were in the cafeteria.

Nigel bid farewell to Abby and the rest as he and Kuki went to the southern half of the Cafeteria. The postings had been arranged by last name in alphabetical order, and since their names were in the second half of the alphabet, so were they. Kuki bounded her way to the list of 'S' names, while he headed to the 'U' list. He wondered who'd he get as a drill sergeant – most likely someone who had already been decommissioned in the original timeline, before his original entry into the Cadets Next Door.

So consumed was he in his thoughts, that hadn't realized he was walking into someone's way until it was already too late.

WHACK!

"Ow…" Nigel hissed in pain, rubbing his sore head. Thankfully, it hadn't been too hard a knock, so the pain subsided quickly. He quickly got up, dusting his pants, and went to help the person he had bumped into – only to freeze.

It was a girl. A painfully young girl, with short, dirty blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her button nose, the unmistakable curl of her lips, the unshakable confidence that beheld her, even as she laid in the ground, soothing her brief headache, were all piercing Nigel's heart at an accelerated rate. Because, no matter how many years passed, they were the few features of hers that had never changed, even as they grew grey and old.

Rachel.

Nigel waited anxiously as Rachel finally made to get her head on straight. She looked up – and there was _something_ there. She stiffened, just like Nigel had, eyes duly on him and him alone. For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

Finally, Nigel shoved his hand forward, and Rachel took it gratefully, moving into a standing position.

"Hi."

"Hi." Nigel smiled. "I'm Nigel."

"Rachel." Rachel smiled back.

"Uh, Hello!? Could you two please move it!?"

The two immediately broke out of their trance and looked around. A few cadets were watching them in either confusion or amusement, or in the case of the one cadet that had called them out, anger. Both cadets rubbed their arms sheepishly and moved, allowing the cadet to make it to the postings. Finally remembering what they were supposed to be doing, the two looked at each other with guilt.

"I better…"

"Yeah."

And then, even though it was the last thing he had ever wanted to do – in both lifetimes – Nigel walked away.

* * *

The first month of the three-month program passed by quickly. Nigel had found himself to be the only one of his friends in his particular class, and the age disparity meant he was quickly shunted aside by his fellow cadets. Not that had meant much in the end – the vast majority of his class had quit two weeks in, which was the norm for the program. The future Sector V, despite their young ages, had found themselves at the top of their respective classes, and already earmarked for specialized courses. Through some gossip and eavesdropping, Nigel had learned that the same was true for Rachel.

With both training and school and his friends all taking up his time, he had yet to find some time to just talk to her. The way she had looked at him that day – he didn't want to get his hopes up, but that reaction had been remarkably different from their first meeting in the previous timeline. It had been almost a mirror of his own, and considering why he had acted the way he did, well…

Another issue was that he didn't know _how_ to approach her. He couldn't have just got up to her and asked her if she was his time-traveling wife – because if she wasn't, he would scare her off for good. Food was a no go either; it was a well-known fact that food at the Arctic Base was remarkably substandard compared to the rest of the Kids Next Door because of the attached prison, and since they were still cadets, there was no way they could go to the Moon Base for Meatball Sandwich Mondays.

The only option left was to wait. Classes regularly had cross-training, and his and Rachel's were due for an exercise together any day now. Once that happened, he could build a rapport with her, introduce himself, and see where it went. If she had truly gone back with him, then one of them would slip eventually and they could just continue on where they had left off, sans all the… _indecent_ bits until they were the appropriate age. If she hadn't…well, his wife wouldn't be the first person he had to say goodbye to in his life, though she would undoubtedly hurt the most.

And so, Nigel waited. And sure enough, the day came.

* * *

The day he met Rachel again – _truly_ met her – both their classes had been selected for crossover hand-to-hand combat training.

Nigel arrived at the arena with the rest of his class – all five of them. Another three had quit the previous week, making up excuses regarding their parents and the like. They hadn't been willing to admit that their prides had been stung at having their performances over-shadowed by a five-year-old's. The fact that their performances were substandard compared to the other recruits only aided in the fact and was why their drill sergeant hadn't made much of an effort to convince them to stay.

No matter. Nigel had already gotten sick of their attitudes, and the only reason he hadn't dealt with them himself was because he was an adult in temperament and they hadn't done anything to him besides throw dirty looks. As things were, unless they got mixed up in some villain's plan, he'd never see any of them ever again. The only real consequence of this was that their drill sergeant, Numbuh 10-Hut, was concentrating more of his attention on the rest of them. With his class downsized, there was more time for conditioning in preparation of the specialized courses during the second month of the program, and he wanted to make sure they were in tip-top shape to handle the strain.

The same had gone for all his friend's classes. Abby and Wally's class had shrunk to them, another girl, and another boy. Hoagie and Kuki's class was even smaller, as only them two and an older boy that looked passingly familiar were left. And, as Nigel watched them file in, the same applied to Rachel's class – seeing as it was her and one older girl and one older boy that were following her drill sergeant, Numbuh 579.

The eight of them were lined up together, the sergeants making a speech and demonstrating the various positions from which they could claim victory on the large sparring mat. After that, the matches began; Nigel had been selected first, and his opponent, the older boy from Rachel's class, selected second.

It was a hilariously one-sided affair. From what he saw of the child's skill, he had taken well to the forms and muscle memory needed to use them in a fight, but he lacked experience in fighting itself, his attacks jerky and forced, with no flow between them. Nigel was smaller and weaker, but his experience had come back with his body, half-remembered techniques finding new life in them. He had danced around his opponent, dodging and countering with ease and pinning his partner within five minutes. Afterwards, they shook hands, and Nigel was pleased to note that the cadet did not look disgruntled, but rather impressed. Very mature for someone his age.

Afterwards, Nigel fell back in line to watch the other matches. They were all much longer, and the disparity in skill and experience much narrower, if not nonexistent. The sole exception had been Rachel's bout, where she had trounced her opponent in just as short a time as Nigel had with his, if not shorter. She had done so with the sharp grace he had come to associate with her from the start of their friendship and into their courtship and eventual marriage. Nigel had been awed, even as his heart clenched at the sight.

The rest of the time had passed in a blur. Nigel fought two more times, and his matches ended just as quickly as the first one had. So had Rachel's. No one had thrown a fit at losing, which was a relief. Just as today's session was about to draw to a close, however, Numbuh 10-Hut and Numbuh 579 issued one last match together.

"Cadet Uno." Nigel stepped forward onto the mat, waiting. He had barely been winded and was raring to go.

Until Numbuh 579 spoke.

"Cadet McKenzie." Nigel tensed as Rachel gingerly stepped onto the mat, looking as anxious he did. The two stared at each other, and Nigel wanted to bang his head on the wall. He should've known this would happen – they were the two best students of their respective classes. What was the point of training if there was no challenge?

Numbuh 10-Hut held his hand up, and chopped it down, signaling the start of the match.

Neither of them made a move, too stunned to fight. Finally, after a moment of silence, Numbuh 579 cleared her throat forcefully, forcing them to act.

Rachel threw the first punch, Nigel countered, and after that, it was only them.

He fell into a rush, a rush he only felt when faced with a real opponent. None of the cadets at the Arctic Base had fallen into that category except his team, and even then, only Abby and Wally could truly push him to his limits. Hoagie and Kuki were decent opponents themselves and indulged him from time to time, but direct combat had never been their prerogatives. Alas, since all four were in different classes from him, they rarely had a chance to fight outside of cross-training and the rare day off. Nigel was left with half-trained, dawdling children who were hesitant to throw a punch even when their opponents were all but _ordering_ them to.

Not here. Rachel matched him in everything but skill, and that only by a sliver below. She was just as fast, as strong, as smart, as passionate and ferocious and graceful and _powerful_. They moved in sync, attacking, blocking, dodging and countering in tandem, a dance that only they knew the tune to. The entire world fell away, and only the fight remained.

He didn't know how long they'd been fighting, but the end came quick. Nigel caught Rachel's elbow, before twisting her arm back and pinning her face first into the ground. She writhed, struggling to get out of the hold, before finally tapping onto the mat, submitting. His victory assured, he immediately released her, moving to help her up from her prone position.

Perhaps it was leftover adrenaline, an elation for such a good battle, but as he helped her up, he couldn't help but smile widely at her. She smiled back, just as wide and bright, and he felt a pang of longing at it, the wonder and familiarity of a sight that he had once seen every day, one that he had treasured until the day he died.

"Good match." He held out his hand.

She took it, tilting her head. "Right back at ya."

They looked to Numbuh 10-Hut, waiting for him to announce the winner, and blinked. He was gaping at them, jaw hanging in disbelief and eyes wide. Numbuh 579 had her thumb pressed on the stopwatch so hard that it looked as if the device would break under the strain; she was eyeing them as if she had never seen them before. The other cadets were simply in awe, whispering to each other excitedly and pointing at them.

Finally noticing their pointed looks, Numbuh 10-Hut cleared his throat awkwardly. "R-right. Winner: Cadet Uno!"

* * *

After cross-training was over, they had been sent into the locker rooms for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading home. Nigel had been one of the first in and one of the first out – after the session was over, some of his classmates had cornered him, asking him how he learned to fight like that, only now realizing how above them they were in skill. He had given some non-committal answers to satisfy them but had hightailed it as soon as possible to avoid a repeat.

He was power-walking quietly down a hallway when Rachel appeared behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to her, and at a gesture of her head, followed her down one of the hallways to one of the abandoned chambers of the base, unused and thus untouched by the Arctic Base's surveillance team. Once the door was shut closed, quietly so it would not arouse suspicion, he looked at her, mouth opening to ask the question he so desperately wanted to hear.

"Is it… _you_ , Rachel?"

Rachel shrugged. "You tell me, soldier."

It was all he needed to hear. He threw himself at her, hugging her close, never wanting to let go. She did the same, clutching her hands into the sides of his shirt.

If there were tears, well, there weren't any souls but them.

* * *

"So it's you, me, Abby, Hoagie, Wally, and Kuki?" Rachel counted off with her fingers. Her and Nigel were sitting against the wall of the chamber, leaning against each other's shoulders.

"That we know of." Nigel confirmed. He was thrumming his fingers onto his kneecaps, thinking.

"You're suspicious?"

"Not exactly, but you never know…"

Rachel sighed. "Well, is there anyone we know for certain that hasn't come back?"

Nigel stopped his thrumming, holding up his hand to count with his fingers. "Fanny and Herbie. Maurice as well. What about Patton and Harvey?"

Rachel shook her head. "Harvey is too young to tell right now. Patton is definitely a no-go, though."

"What about…Chad?" Rachel winced at the name. While she had a cordial relationship with her former superior in adulthood, her husband had not, and there had been too many near-confrontations for her and Eva to count.

"I haven't seen him long enough to tell."

"But you _have_ seen him though, right?"

Rachel blinked. "Of course. He's made rounds with all the classes, watching a little of their training from afar and giving a small talk to any operatives that are struggling or standing out in private. Except…"

"…He hasn't done it with you?" At her nod, Nigel sighed. "Well he hasn't done it with me or the rest of the guys either. They've seen him watching their classes though. In fact, the only class he hasn't watched is mine."

"That's…" She didn't quite know what to call that. The closest word that could describe her feelings was, well, sad.

Chad had been the one to introduce her to Nigel; when he was Commander of the Arctic Base, he had taken several cadets who had made impressions on him under his wing. Rachel had been one, and they kept contact after her training was finished, forming a casual, comfortable friendship. Nigel had been his last student, undoubtedly his best, and one of the few operatives in the KND that could say they had been close to Chad Dickson, not just Numbuh 274. It was why he had taken Chad's supposed betrayal so badly, but as bad as that was, the unknowing competition he was having with Chad over the GKND promotion is what ultimately destroyed their relationship altogether. There was no reconciliation, no clearance of the air, only a mutual understanding of some mix of hostility and respect.

If Chad wasn't paying attention to Nigel this time around, or to her or the rest of the once-Sector V, even after seeing how good they all were, it could mean a lot of things. But if it meant _that_ …

"Yeah." Nigel said quietly, reading her thoughts as if they were his own.

* * *

The second month of the program began with an evaluation exam.

It was a two-part exam with both a written and practical portion. The written portion tested basic strategy, basic KND history, and general knowledge of KND regulations. The practical dealt with a timed obstacle course, and then a combat simulation against one of the KND's higher-tiered training robots. It was at this exam in the previous timeline that Nigel had met Chad for the first time, a meeting that would prove instrumental to changing his life.

The written portion went by relatively quickly. All six of them had been careful to use more basic vocabulary (advanced for five-year-olds but expected for cadets) for the free-response questions and were free to leave long before the allotted time was up. The timed obstacle course went just as well, with all of them, even Hoagie, finishing the course well under the necessary passing time; Nigel even heard whispers that he might've broken one of Chad's records for fastest time finished.

Even the combat simulation had been easy for them. Typically, for this part of the exam the drill sergeants, the simulations were of varying levels, tailored to sufficiently test the operative in question without completely overwhelming them. Not everyone in the Kids Next Door was a combat-oriented operative, after all, and while there was a minimum level of physical conditioning and fighting skill needed to graduate (if only so every operative was capable of defending themselves), as long as the operative exceled in one particular field (such as 2x4 technology, for the KND scientists at the Deep Sea Science Lab), they were usually guaranteed to pass – if barely.

The O.C.T.O.P.A.D.D.L.E.R. assigned to him in the first timeline had been the highest-leveled training bot that could be assigned to a cadet for the exam. That particular model was reserved to test only the top percent of the top percent of cadets, in not just physical attributes but mental as well. Of Sector V, only he and Abby had faced that machine for their exams. This time around, Hoagie, Wally, and Kuki had each faced the machine as well and done splendidly, defeating it quickly and efficiently while showcasing the various skills they possessed for extra points. Abby had faced it as well, and done extremely well, finishing it off in five minutes, just a bit over the record, as had Rachel.

Thus, when Nigel entered the arena for his turn, he had no reason to believe he would be facing anything other than a giant purple machine with a spider's body and eight hands sticking out of the junction that served as its neck.

In hindsight, he probably should've known better.

* * *

Nigel readied the M.U.S.K.E.T.s in his hands, flicking the safety off for both weapons and aiming it directly at the door where his automaton opponent would enter. He loosened his body, got rid of any leftover cricks, and waited for the double doors to open.

After a few more moments, the double doors unlocked, and released –

Nigel's eyes widened behind his glasses.

* * *

The current and future Sector V were hanging around one of the balconies of the training arena where the exams were taking place. These terraces had been built so Sectors and other divisions of the Kids Next Door (including Global Command) could watch cadets and see if there were any potential recruits they were interested in taking in if and when they graduated. The current Sector V had taken one all for themselves to watch the exams of their leader's little sister and her friends and had been gradually joined by each member of the future Sector V after they were finished. Rachel had also joined them after she was done, and Abby had introduced her as a friend they had met during training.

As a result of having so many young kids sequestered together in a small space, the balcony was usually loud and raucous with cheers of support for their chosen favorites.

Not now.

They were all staring directly at the chosen training robot for Nigel's combat simulation in stunned horror.

"Isn't that…"

* * *

" –a B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F.!? Why did they send out a B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F.!?" Numbuh 345, this year's test administrator, demanded from her own terrace, shouting at her various subordinates to figure out who had circumvented her orders for an O.C.T.O.P.A.D.D.L.E.R. to be sent out.

She had every right to be angry – and worried. The B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. was the hardest combat simulation that could be administered by the system, and was _never_ used for cadet training. Even full-trained operatives, some with years of experience, had difficulty with this level.

The B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. was a titan-sized mechanical gray wolf with frightening agility, speed, and power. It could jump from one end of the arena to the next with a single leap, run across walls, and even shoot lasers from its eyes. It was, in short, dangerous, far too dangerous for a single cadet, no matter how good they reputedly were.

Numbuh 345 was about to order Cadet Uno to flee the arena immediately, but found her microphone wasn't working.

Before she could do anything about it, the young boy charged – and _moved_.

* * *

Nigel didn't bother to think about why a B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. of all things was his combat simulation, figuring he could bother with that later. Instead, he acted immediately, charging forward, firing mustard shots directly at the mouth of the beast. When the wolf lunged for him, he ducked into a combat role, firing from beneath, aiming specifically the right foreleg's main joint.

He hit dead on, but aside from a few cracks the machine acted as if it hadn't been shot. It fired its lasers, and Nigel was forced move again, running across the side of the arena and dodging the deadly beams by a hair's width. The wolf, realizing that this tactic was ineffective as well, made for a smaller lunge, twisting its body so its back legs were facing its opponent. It kicked outwards, trying to slam Nigel into the wall with its large front paws. Nigel ducked under again, running to the right and aiming once again for the right foreleg.

And so it went. He would dodge, duck and weave around the mechanical beast, taking aim at that one joint whenever there was an opening. The beast in turn would lunge at him, shoot lasers at him, even sweep him away with one of its large paws or even its tail, only to fail every time, if only by the slightest of slivers. It was a dangerous game to play, but for Nigel, that was what this life was all about.

Finally, it was time to finish this. The badly abused joint that he had been aiming for the entire fight was sparking, weak and fragile, holding barely together. Nigel dived under another lunge, aiming straight and true. The mustard hit dead on, and the connection broke. The B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. collapsed to its side, its other limbs flailing to get some equilibrium back.

Nigel ignored them, walking casually to the head of the machine. He aimed both of his M.U.S.K.E.T.s directly at its eyes, and fired continuous shots, not stopping until the metal began to spark, before the entire thing exploded into dark smoke and flames. With the battle finally over, Nigel took in a deep breath and collapsed to his knees, spent.

Then the cheers started.

The cadet looked up to see that he had attracted a crowd. Everywhere he could see, KND operatives from every major division were yelling and whooping about. It wasn't every day you saw a cadet defeat a B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. after all. Sector V's terrace was the loudest – there he could see his friends chanting his name, with Numbuhs 8a and 8b joining them. Cree and Maurice had proud and approving smiles on their faces, while Rachel was positively beaming at him.

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his head and gave a small wave to his adoring public. As he looked around, something caught the corner of his eye from the command terrace: a flash of familiar blond hair. Nigel turned his head slowly, so he wouldn't arouse suspicion, but by the time he got a full look, the striking color was gone.

* * *

The second month of the cadet program was when cadets began to undergo specializations. Some were apprenticed to older operatives with specific jobs (such as ice cream delivery, in the case of Numbuh 48 Flavors), others took courses to broaden their skill sets. The latter was specifically set aside for operatives who planned to join a regional sector, or those who were aiming for a job with Global Command. Three days of the week were dedicated to specialized classes (two sessions per day), another three to the standard conditioning that had started in the first month, and the last day was a rest day for the cadets to get their bearings and be just regular kids again before they entered the grind permanently.

However, in order to enter a specialized course, a cadet needed to have the necessary grades from their corresponding courses in basic, their evaluation exam, and a recommendation from their drill sergeant. Of Sector V, Hoagie and Wally had suffered the most from this restriction in the previous timeline, even if they hadn't minded at the time. While Hoagie excelled at knowledge and weapons handling, he lacked the athleticism needed for many of the practical combat courses. Wally had the exact opposite problem; he was as tough and skilled as they came, but he wasn't one to use his head often and thus was barred from theoretical courses such as strategy, not that he had particularly cared.

When the exam results were posted later that week, Nigel was at the very top of the list, with record-breaking scores to match – even Rachel, the second-highest scorer, had a visible gap between her scores and his. He could basically enter any specialized class he desired, and his pick of sector when he finally graduated.

All of which was a moot point; thanks to his young age, it would be a while before he was officially allowed to be stationed anywhere on a semi-permanent basis, and even then, he already had his mind set. Having a pick of specialized courses, however, was a definite benefit. He had decided to take on advanced strategy, advanced hand-to-hand combat, History 102, diversionary tactics, and advanced piloting. All of his team were with him in advanced hand-to-hand and strategy, but he only shared piloting with Hoagie, who had also decided to take a 2x4 technology course and a cooking course. Abby and Rachel had decided to go into stealth and spy craft (which functioned as a double class due to the nature of the material taught) with each other, while Kuki went into hamster caretaking, diversionary tactics, and medicine. Wally joined her in medicine and diversionary tactics, but for himself, took diplomacy. At the questioning looks of his friends, he had admitted that it was partially atonement for how he had acted as a kid.

After that, life got busier than ever. The training, while interesting and even enjoyable, was also intense and exhausting, both mentally and physically. Often times they went home together, too tired to do anything but fall asleep at each other's houses. Since they were all still in kindergarten, school wasn't an issue, but that didn't make things any easier.

The incident with the B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F., however, had not been forgotten. It was written off as a minor accident, and no official investigation had been opened into what happened, partially because, in the end, Nigel hadn't gotten hurt – had even done better than anyone could have ever expected him to at this age, _way_ better. But it was still fresh in the minds of everyone, from fellow cadets to operatives who had been drawn into spectating.

He had become a minor celebrity as a result, well-known name amongst the occupants of the Arctic Base. A figure worthy of admiration, liable to scorn, and everything in between. Already his reputation was spreading throughout the KND, rumors and wild speculations trailing him at every corner. And the _comparisons_ , oh the comparisons. Numbuhs 0 and 100 were brought up frequently, but none more so 274 – after all, no one had such an early, dramatic rise to greatness as quick as Chad Dickson did. Not until him, at least.

Nigel didn't even want to think about what Chad thought about that.

It didn't help that the older boy seemed to be avoiding him. And Rachel. And the rest of the guys. And it was increasingly obvious as to why, though until Chad said it first, Nigel refused to confront him about it. Call him a coward, but that was a talk he'd like to avoid until it was absolutely necessary. And with the increased workload, he had a convenient excuse for it. One that wouldn't last, obviously, but he would take what he could get.

He had found that was always the best way to deal with things, when it came to Chad.

* * *

The start of the third month began with the annual KND Cadet Exhibition. It was a quarterly event used to showcase the latest graduating class of cadets, competing against the various operatives stationed at the Arctic Base. The cadets that wanted to participate were required to enter their name in a lottery; then, the Soopreme Leaduh and the Arctic Base command team would determine which cadets would participate in what event in order to best display their skills to prospective recruiters. Only the best ten cadets that had decided to enter would be allowed to participate: five for the team event, four for the free-for-all, and one for the exclusive match.

There were three major events in the exhibition: Capture the Flag, Hide and Seek, and a one-on-one randomized event with a top operative (usually a drill sergeant) and a cadet of their choice. The year Nigel was a part of the exhibition, he had been selected for the Capture the Flag game – so had Wally, Kuki and Hoagie at their respective exhibitions. Abby and Rachel were selected for the Hide and Seek game.

Contrary to what might at first, being selected for the one-on-one match was hardly an honor. The KND may be a paramilitary organization dedicated to protecting kids everywhere, but that didn't change the fact that _kids ran it_. Kids could be immature and selfish, and here was no different. Typically, the drill sergeant chose a cadet who had been particularly disrespectful and… _discipline_ them. Occasionally there was a match that actually served the purpose of the exhibition and gave the cadet positive attention, but that was rare.

So, in true Sector V fashion, one of them was selected for the match. And absolutely no one was surprised when they heard who it would be against.

* * *

Nigel leaned back into his seat at the Arctic Base's recreation center. All around him, his cadet class was surrounding him, every eye fixated on the gigantic TV screen in front of them.

Onscreen was Numbuh 100, flanked by a number of KND officials, including Numbuh 274 and the cadet program's drill sergeants. He was currently standing onstage in the Moon Base's main auditorium, being broadcast to Kids Next Door operatives around the world. It was time to announce the participants of the exhibition.

Numbuh 100 cleared his throat, microphone in hand, and started his speech. He explained the history of the exhibition: former Soopreme Leaduh Numbuh Eleventy-Billion instituted it to further streamline the selection process for cadets for when they finally graduated and officially entered the Kids Next Door. The first one had been a crude event that Eleventy-Billion himself had participated in, it had since been refined over the years, until it became what it was today.

"Now, to announce the participants of each event! First, Capture the Flag!"

Numbuh 100 rolled down the names on the list given to him, each one announced with the bombastic tilt of his southern accent. First, he started with the cadets, and then went to the drill sergeants. Hoagie, Kuki, and Wally all traded high-fives when their names were called.

"I guess I'll be joining you and Abby in Hide and Seek." Nigel whispered to Rachel as the cadets burst into conversation when the drill sergeants were announced.

"Next, Hide and Seek!"

The cadets were once again announced first, and Nigel frowned when he realized his name hadn't been called. He wasn't the only one who noticed – every member of his team was looking at him, as were as a few others.

"You did enter your name, right?" Rachel whispered back to him.

"I did." Had he been selected for the exclusive match? Why? It would be embarrassing for a full-fledged operative to lose to a five-year-old, no matter how good they were.

After the cheer died down for the operatives, Numbuh 100 cleared his throat. "Finally, the main event. For this quarter's exhibition, we've got a special treat for all of you. Now, I was a bit surprised to hear when this operative volunteered himself for the exhibition – despite his stellar record, he was never quite one to boast about his many achievements or show-off to the crowd. But this class interested him, and he felt that this cadet in particular could only display the full scope of his abilities against him. So, drum roll please." The Soopreme Leaduh waited, and was obliged. "Boys, girls, and hamsters, please put your hands together for…"

The world breathed in.

"…Numbuh 274! Yes, the Base Commander himself is joining in on the fun this quarter!"

Raucous applause broke out from the onsite crowd at Moon Base. In deep contrast, the recreation room at the Arctic Base fell silent, every cadet within frozen in disbelief and fear. Several who had joined the lottery had yet to have their names called and had now realized that one of them would be facing off against the best Kids Next Door operative _on the planet_.

No one could take their eyes off the screen. No one.

"The event this quarter will be a full-contact sparring match. Weapons and armor will be provided, the terrain modified to mock a typical street where a battle might take place in an actual mission. There are two ways to determine a winner: surrender or incapacitation."

Even more terror filled the remaining cadets. They'd be actually _fighting_ Numbuh 274? Squeaks and groans and gasps filled the room.

Through it all, Nigel remained silent, his gaze glued to the screen, eyes narrowed. His mind had been racing a mile a minute ever since Chad's codename had been announced.

"Now, for the lucky cadet…" An audible, collective scoff echoed throughout the crowd, which was summarily ignored.

"…this quarter's top-scorer, Nigel Uno!"

Gasps were heard, and people turned to him with pitying looks. Nigel leaned back into his chair and sighed, rubbing his head.

 _Crud._

* * *

Long chapter, I know, and lots of exposition. This was actually supposed to be out earlier, but my beta was busy this week since school is starting back up. Next chapter will be the exhibition, plus we get some insight into Chad and Nigel's relationship. The chapter after _that_ should be the third month and then graduation from the Cadets Next Door. Then we get into the _real_ fun. By the time we reach the canon timeline, there will be so many changes your head will spin.


	3. Chapter 3: The Exhibition

Chapter 3: The Exhibition

The ride home was not fun.

Almost immediately after the announcement that he would be facing Chad in the exhibition, it was as if a bomb had gone off in the room. Everyone had started bombarding him with questions, asking why _Numbuh 274_ of all people had bothered to take part in the exhibition just to face _him_. All Nigel could do was calmly explain that he had yet to speak to Numbuh 274 in person and that he didn't know why he would want to test him in particular.

At least, not _exactly_ why. He had a pretty good guess, though, not that he had said anything about that.

The current Sector V was similarly curious. They had come to pick them up from the Arctic Base for home in their personal S.C.A.M.P.E.R., since there would be a break in training for the next three days to prepare for the Exhibition. The moment Nigel had stepped on the ship, he had been subject to all their stares, and an awkward silence had ensued after Nigel admitted that he didn't have a clue as to why Chad had gone through all this trouble just to face him in a public spar. Technically speaking, he had yet to share one word with the older boy since he first became a cadet.

Cree, Maurice, and the twins provided no insight either. While Maurice was in the same generation as Chad, their interactions were minimal, and they barely knew each other. Cree hardly knew him any better – while she had spoken to Chad during Sector Leader functions, those conversations mainly consisted of friendly greetings and small talk. The twins had never met the other boy at all.

Not that Nigel needed to know why. He already did. So did everyone else that mattered.

Thankfully, it wasn't a school night, so he and his friends had some time before their parents came to pick them up. Nigel's room was located right at the entrance of the Secret Treasure Chamber of the Treehouse of Coolness, so once Sector V had absconded to their own treehouse above, they had slid down to their own little hidey-hole below.

* * *

"It's him."

Nigel's statement echoed throughout the silent chamber. His four compatriots exchanged looks.

Abby, as always, bit the bullet. "Now, Nigel, I know the evidence is kind of… _overwhelming_ , right now, but we still don't know –"

"Abby, he publicly challenged me to a fight." Nigel deadpanned. "And before that, he was avoiding me – avoiding _all_ of us. It was so blatant I'm surprised that we're the only ones that noticed."

Abby palmed her forehead, exasperated. "Alright." She conceded. "It's him. So what's his game plan? Why bother with all this? If it was a fight he wanted he could've just invaded one of your hand-to-hand combat classes and taken you on, then and there!"

"He wants confirmation." Nigel crossed his arms. "Chad's not stupid. He'll have figured out who we are by now – the fact that we joined the Kids Next Door this much earlier would be enough of a red flag, and the B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. incident would've cemented it. But it's not _enough_ for him – he needs to see me at my best before he makes any conclusions. And he knows that I'll have figured him out by now, so he wants to send a sign to me, to _us_ , that he's here. He wants to make it as obvious as possible."

Wally nodded along, then frowned. "But what if ya hadn't come back?"

"Then he got to humiliate me on live TV." Nigel shrugged. "It's not like that he's above that, when it came to me."

"Are you sure there isn't any _other_ reason?"

Everyone turned to Kuki, who was looking pointedly at their fearless leader. Nigel mouth thinned into a line.

"What do you mean, Kuki?"

"Don't bullshit us, Nigel." Kuki sighed, and it took all his self-control not to scold her for language. She wasn't actually five, no matter what they looked like. "We all know you two never quite buried the hatchet."

"She's got a point, Nigel." Everyone turned to Hoagie, who was sitting on the platform where the Book of KND was hidden. "You and Chad have a lot of bad history together, and you never quite cleared the air with him."

"Yeah, so?" Nigel threw his hands into the air. "We've got some bad blood between us. But it's been years since we've last spoken, since he _died_. It doesn't mean anything anymore!"

At their disbelieving looks, Nigel held his stalwart glare, before looking to the side in defeat.

"I'm not fooling any of you, am I?"

"Nope."

"Nuh-uh."

"Never in bajillion years, mate."

"We've known you for well over seventy years, baby." Abby said. "You couldn't lie to us even if you tried."

"Okay, fine." Nigel waved them off, collapsing next to Hoagie. "So I'm still a little bitter. So he might still be a little bitter. I don't see how that's a problem."

"And now you're just in denial. The two of you are two bitter old men stuck in the bodies of children, with decades of tension between you. And you're about to fight to the finish on a live broadcast in front of every Kids Next Door operative on the planet. This fight is going to be dirty, brutal, and possibly traumatizing – so much so that I'll be surprised if Numbuh 100 doesn't haul you both up to Moon Base for interrogations when it's all said and done. People are going to ask _questions_ , Nigel, and that's the last thing we want."

"I know, Abby." Nigel moaned. "I know. But what can I do? We weren't able to settle things the adult way and trying to do so now will only raise even more questions. I don't even know if he'll be receptive to the idea. I've got no choice _but_ to let it happen."

Abby nodded unconvincingly. "And let me guess: it doesn't have anything to do with you _wanting_ it to happen, does it?"

Nigel refused to answer her, which was all the proof she needed.

* * *

"She's right, you know." Rachel's knowing voice flitted over the makeshift cell-phone. Zero, Nigel couldn't wait until smartphones were a thing, so he could match her face to it.

"She almost always is." Nigel agreed, though with none of the usual warmth that accompanied a statement like that. "It's why she's my second-in-command – and why she succeeded you."

Rachel giggled. "Agreed." Her mirth eventually died down, however, and she took on that no-nonsense tone that Nigel loved and hated her for. "She also asked a good question: Do you want this to happen, Nigel?"

Nigel groaned and leaned back into the headboard of his bed. "I don't know, Rachel. The adult part of me recognizes that settling things like this is way more painful than it should be, at least physically. The kid part of me, however, _likes_ that. That part of me never quite forgave Chad – sure, he wasn't a traitor in the end, but that didn't make him any less of a jerk or changed the fact that he tried to _kill_ me."

"From what you told me, you were trying to do the same thing with him, and nearly succeeded. If it hadn't been for Abby, Chad probably would've been made into a pancake at thirteen." Rachel pointed out sensibly.

"And the adult part of me acknowledges that and is even apologetic about it. But it still _hurts_ Rachel – at least I had the excuse of believing he was a traitor. He knew damn well that I hadn't meant to take that promotion away from him, that I hadn't even realized I was in the running for it in the first place, and he still held it against me anyway. He took it out on me, tried to murder me for it. And something like that…" Nigel sighed.

"I know, Nigel, I know." Rachel soothed him. "I understand. I'm sure the others understand that too. And I'm certain that, deep down, Chad understands that as well. But you two can't keep going like this. After this fight, no matter how it goes down, you're going to have to talk to him. Say what you need to say. For all our sakes."

Nigel nodded along his wife's statement and smiled fondly. "You know, you're right a lot of the time too."

"And I guess that's why you married _me_." Came her cheeky reply.

* * *

The day of the KND Cadet Exhibition was on them before they knew it. The moment Nigel stepped into the Arctic Base, he was the subject of scrutiny, every curious eye peering at him from every corner. For the most part, he ignored them, something he was well-practiced in. Instead, he and his friends rushed to the locker rooms as soon as possible, meeting Rachel there for a quick greeting before separating into the gender-assigned rooms. There was a television there, where the Exhibition would be broadcast for those whose matches had not yet started or were already over.

Hoagie and Wally immediately rushed to change into their armor (matching and color-coded, to differentiate the cadets from their older counterparts). Nigel, as a participant of the last match, had a bit more leeway, which was by design – it allowed him to peruse the number of outfits offered to him and to decide which would service him best. The same went true with the armory; while the battlefield itself would be filled with hidden 2x4 technology to make things more… _exciting_ , it helped to arm himself with a few weapons he already knew himself to have.

Eventually, he settled on something that resembled Sector V's KNDefense armor – just lacking the decals that marked him as 'Numbuh 1' of the Kids Next Door. It was the same armor he had used when he and his team had rescued Chad from his crash site, an entire lifetime ago. As for weapons, he settled on a M.U.S.K.E.T. II and a S.C.A.M.P.P. for handhelds, and then stored M.A.R.B.L.E.S. into some of the hidden compartments of his armor. A miniature I.C.E. C.R.E.A.M.E.R. was holstered to his side, with a regular M.U.S.K.E.T. holstered on the other.

One might call it a bit overboard to have so many weapons on him, but Nigel wasn't taking any chances. He was facing off against Chad Dickson in an "Anything Goes" sparring match, and that meant being prepared as he possibly could, ready and willing for everything the older boy could possible throw at him – and that was a _lot_. He knew that Chad was undoubtedly doing the same. He wasn't a fool, after all.

At least, not when it came to things like this.

After Chad was revealed to be one of their spies, it was amazing what a little hindsight could do. How Nigel could look back and notice all the little things that passed by him the first time around. How _easy_ it was, to time and again defeat a boy purported to be the greatest Kids Next Door operative of all time. All that brash, youthful arrogance, found in child and teen alike, had blinded them all to the obvious. Chad had been holding back. Chad was still on their side, and he always would be.

Not that it had made him any less of a jerk.

As far Nigel was aware, the only time Chad had used the full scope of his abilities, physical and mental alike, while undercover had been during their fateful fight at the treaty. Where, a year after that day in the Moon Base, the day Nigel's idolization of his mentor had shattered into millions of pieces like a hammer to a glass pane, it had all come to a head. There had already been so much tension between them beforehand, but everything that happened on that day had just caused it to accelerate. Nigel finding that old picture of them on Moon Base; Chad learning that Nigel, not him, was chosen; being unwillingly chained together and forced to work as a barely functioning team…but perhaps, the one thing that had charged them both, was Nigel's desire to understand why, and Chad's absolute refusal to answer him. Not until his life was on the line, and only when Abby had been there to talk sense into her leader, as she always had.

He expected some of that Chad in today's fight. While that anger, that raw savageness that had driven them both, was no longer quite there, something resembling a pale shadow of it remained, simmering in the background for decades and arising again when they had found themselves in the past. All the things they left unsaid, the apologies they never quite made to each other, the broken corpse of a friendship that had meant something to them both – those things alone, would be enough to power them both through. Neither of them was coming out of this unscathed, that much Nigel was sure of.

All he could hope for was that people wouldn't ask too many questions when it was all said and done.

* * *

Capture the Flag was first. Of the three matches at the Exhibition, it was by far the most beloved and usually the most anticipated. It was chaotic, destructive, and usually a back-and-forth affair. Most of all, however, it was _fun_ ; the child operatives that took part in Capture the Flag legitimately enjoyed themselves.

The match itself was simple; first, two hours before the match officially started, both sides were instructed to build 'forts' to protect their respective 'flags' – long pieces of fabric emblazoned with the letters KND. The blue one for the cadets, the red one for the operatives. To prevent trickery, the flags were also lined with a stitched pattern on their borders, made by the KND seamstresses in front of the Soopreme Leaduh, during the time in which the forts were constructed. Afterwards, the flags were handed to the respective captains of each team (an appointment also decided during the two-hour recess) to be hidden somewhere in their forts. Also required to be built were makeshift 'jails' where captured enemies were forcibly taken and who could only be released by someone on their team.

Other than that, the event itself was a standard 'capture the flag' game. There was a line denote which side was which, and each person was marked with the color of their team's flag. Victory was attained when either the opposing flag was taken to the other side, or all the opposing players of a team were captured. What made it _special_ was the addition of 2x4 technology and the training that both sides had undergone. While technically, a person could only be captured by having one of the attached streamers around their waists stolen by an opposing player on the opposing side, being hit by a S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. made _that_ a lot easier. Not to mention, a team could set traps around their flag, making it that much harder to get, let alone to the other side.

It was with all this on mind that Nigel watched the television, having fully dressed himself in his armor and stretched himself sufficiently to warm-up. The forts had already been assembled, and Nigel noted with pride that the cadets' side was even more ostentatious than usual; no doubt, Hoagie's genius expertise was at hand for that. Just then, the referee, Numbuh 683, asked if both sides were ready. Each team's captain – Numbuh 10-Hut and an older boy whose name had escaped Nigel – sent out a flare indicating that their respective teammates were in position. At this confirmation, a loud, piercing horn rang out, and the game was on.

Almost immediately, guns and turrets sprang out from every possible corner of both forts and fired. Laser, candies, and condiments dominated the battlefield, flying and destroying everything in sight. The once-magnificent forts were already falling apart, debris clattering to the icy ground in bits and chunks alike. Finally, after minutes of constant bombardments, the attacks ceased. There was a brief lull as both sides surveyed the damage: broken hulls, smoking guns, a mish-mash of edible ammunition splattered together in unappetizing messes all around. Already the battlefield looked like a kid-ified scene from _Saving Private Ryan_ or any one of the host of war movies that Hollywood had churned out over the years.

A brave soul from the cadets hesitatingly stepped outside of the protection of her fort, only to jump back when a sparking dart nearly hit her from where she stood. The screen flicked, jumping feeds to see the perpetrator: Numbuh 579, wielding a long-range, modified dart gun that Nigel vaguely recognized as a B.I.R.D.I.E. Before she could fire again, however, she had to duck down to avoid being belted by a large bowling ball. The feed changed to the cadets, showing Hoagie and an improved version of his beloved launcher, aimed directly at her. It wasn't long before he was avoiding a M.U.S.K.E.T. shot, however.

That seemed to be the cue everyone was waiting for. Once again the firefight started, except instead of from each fort's in-built defenses, the fire was from the operatives themselves. Thanks to the limited range of the weaponry used, however, and the noticeable lack of unlimited ammunition, this little exchange lasted a much shorter amount of time. Eventually, once both sides had determined the futility of continuing a long-range confrontation, operatives started trying to guard the flags while others tried to pierce the opposite side's forts in hopes of attaining the glory of ending the game the traditional way.

Typically, matches where the cadets won were ones where they were exclusively defensive; after all, no matter how talented and skilled they were, they were still half-baked trainees who were missing the necessary experience to utilize their training effectively. By planting themselves and forcing their teachers to play on their side, they had the advantage of numbers that would allow them to capture any one or two operatives that tried for their flag. Another operative would be sent to spring them from jail, forcing the cycle to continue, until one operative was left on that side. Then, that operative would be forced into the impossible choice of either leaving their flag undefended in order to try to break them out from jail and evening the odds or staying there to defend and having to deal with five cadets that could easily overwhelm them and take their flag in short order.

The matches where they _didn't_ utilize this strategy, they usually had it turned against them by the sergeants and found themselves defeated soon afterwards. Very rarely did actually going on the offensive first worked out for either team.

Then again, the game wasn't designed for people as good as _his_ team.

Nigel smiled lightly as Wally and Kuki charged across the dividing line, covered by a large, gumball machine gun that was being lovingly manned by Hoagie. The guarding operatives were forced to take cover, unable to intercept the couple. It wasn't long before they were climbing the fort, jumping from platform to platform and aiming for the visible chamber where a red flag was flying in the breeze, the golden border denoting its authenticity shining under the bright lights of the Arctic Base arena. The guarding operative attempted to fire at them, only for his shots to be avoided by the agile kindergarteners. When they made it to his post, he went for his S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R., only to be knocked down below thanks to a nice wallop from Wally.

He grabbed a spare G.U.M.Z.O.O.K.A. from the floor boards and started firing to the officers down below who were trying to reach the now very real threat to their flag. Meanwhile, Kuki entered the chamber, her dexterity and speed allowing her to easily escape all of the traps that had been hastily built in to protect her prize. She sailed up the stairs, and after looking closely at the flag to ensure it was the right one, she grabbed it, removing it from its vessel and holding it high for everyone to see.

The instructors gasped in horror at the sight while the cadets cheered. Kuki waved it around for a bit, giggling at how the fabric bounced against the frigid wind, but at the sight of every one of the fully-fledged operatives aiming their weapons up at her, she decided it was time to skedaddle. She jumped down to where Wally was, and after exchanging a nod with him, they made a running leap into the air, to the shock of everyone watching.

Everyone, that is, except Hoagie and the other two cadets. Knowing it was his cue, Hoagie exchanged the gumball machine gun for another launcher – which fired mattresses. He aimed it directly at the spot where Kuki and Wally were due to land, and shot directly at it. The two landed on it with a plop, and then quickly got up and sprinted for the dividing line, Wally lagging behind to take the fall for Kuki if necessary.

The moment Kuki's foot stepped beyond the threshold, that same piercing horn sounded, signaling the end of the game. The JumboTron that sat plastered to the right wall of the arena changed to show the three-match bracket, denoting the match-type and dimmed down rectangles of 'KND vs CND'. Where the first match was, CND was lit up, indicating who the winners were.

Kuki was picked up by the two older cadets of the team in celebration, bumping up and down their shoulders. Off to the side, the KND operatives, though slightly unhappy they had lost, watched on with small, proud smiles on their faces.

* * *

After a brief intermission, Hide and Seek was next.

Unlike Capture the Flag, Hide and Seek was a multiple-round game, with each round having a set time limit of five minutes. For the first round, a participant was randomly chosen as the seeker, and forced to sit in a solitary, sound-proof chamber for one hundred counts; the rest hid themselves, using the debris of the Capture the Flag game and whatever 2x4 technology they brought with them. Once the count was finished, they were let out of the chamber and allowed to seek out the other participants.

In order to be considered "found," the seeker had to remove a streamer attached to the other participant's armor. Whoever was found first would be eliminated from the game entirely; those found afterwards during the round would be counted as a single "point" for the seeker. The last person found in the time limit would then become the next seeker. If the seeker failed to find anyone in the allotted time, then they themselves would be eliminated from the game, and another participant would be randomly chosen as the next seeker.

The process would repeat itself until there were only two participants left in the game. Whoever had more points in the final round got to decide whether they would be a seeker or a hider. If the seeker managed to find the hider before the time limit, they would be considered the undisputed winner; however, if the hider managed to avoid getting caught before the time limit was over, they would win. Just to make things even more interesting, the time limit was doubled to ten minutes, all but insuring the two participants would encounter each other.

Nigel left the locker room to meet his three returning friends outside, congratulating them for their awe-inducing win. In turn, the four of them had managed to catch Abby and Rachel right before they left for the arena, wishing them good luck. Nigel had managed to sneak a hug and a small kiss on the cheek to his once-wife before she had to depart and felt himself lighter than he had in the last three days at her returning smile.

Unfortunately, the gender division was strict for the locker rooms, so Kuki was forced to leave them for the girls' room, giving a comforting squeeze of the hand to the put-out Wally. The three of them retreated back to their own room, the future Numbuhs 2 and 4 neglecting to change out of their armor in favor of watching the soon-to-be starting match, the former to cheer his own beau on. Soon enough, after the KND-filmed commercials were finished, the feed changed to the current leader of Sector L and show host of the exhibition, Numbuh 17. She made a brief recap of the first match, showing a few choice clips and pictures, before transitioning over to the upcoming match, doing a refresher of the rules before moving on to the participants, listing each one and giving a brief blurb about their personalities, reputations and/or skills.

Finally, the feed switched from her to the arena, where the eight participants were arranged in a rough circle. All of them were staring at the JumboTron, which had a wheel with their faces on it – it would spin randomly and determine which of them would start off as seeker. The arrow started its rotation, moving faster and faster for a brief moment, before gradually slowing down, eventually settling on the current stealth instructor for the cadet program, Numbuh 300. He saluted when everyone's eyes had settled on him, and then departed for the chamber, which had been carefully constructed and attached to the far-off wall of the arena, away from the destroyed battlefield.

Once he entered the chamber and started the count, everyone immediately sprang into action, eyeing both forts and determining where was the best place to hide. Some hid behind the larger constructs, readying their weapons just in case Numbuh 300 found them first. Others tried to go deeper into the forts, hoping that the consumption of time would deter 300 from searching there. Abby and Rachel were of the latter category; being significantly smaller and shorter than the other participants, it allowed them to squeeze into smaller spaces and better hide themselves.

Finally, the count ended, and 300 emerged from the chamber, having already drawn his musket and holding it at the ready. He narrowed his eyes at both forts, his gaze darting between both, before finally settling on the one where the operatives had made their ill-fated attempt to protect their flag from their juniors. His eyes flickered to one particularly large obstruction, which had the mattress that Wally and Kuki had used to secure their safety in the previous match strewn up against it. The cadet that was hidden there had moved it in hopes of concealing himself better.

A fatal mistake.

A marked difference between Capture the Flag and Hide and Seek was that the latter was much more strategic, testing the mind far more than the body. Numbuh 300, being the stealth instructor and having participated in this match more times than anyone else in the KND currently, knew that better than anyone. He had memorized the layout of the battlefield before he entered the chamber, and any disruption to it would not miss his sharp eye. He walked as silent as possible, footsteps light against the ice – before shooting away the mattress and revealing the boy beneath.

The cadet was startled at having been found so quickly but regained his bearings soon enough and began firing back, moving to the side to try and escape. A short chase ensued, but it was futile – the cadet was caught, and he slunk off to exit the arena. 300 quickly moved on, searching the fortress for more hapless rivals. He found three more people before the horn sounded, ending the round. The next seeker, a male cadet, entered the chamber, and the three 300 found along with 300 himself searched for new hiding spots.

The cycle continued for several more rounds. Abby and Rachel were sussed out of their hiding spots twice each, but were never caught, too quick and agile and able to lead the seekers to other participants to divide their attentions and escape, lasting until the time limits were up. It was until the third to last round that there was any real strange deviation.

Numbuh 300 was seeker again and was out and about searching. Eventually, he stumbled upon Numbuh 345, who immediately sprang into action, attacking with wild abandon to prevent herself from being captured. Initially, the participants usually avoided causing too much damage to the surroundings so that way they had more hiding spaces, but as the game began to wind down, they were looser with attacking, depending on how many points they had. The final round favored the seeker thanks to the extended time limit, and making sure the hider had fewer places to, well, _hide_ , was another advantage they refused to give up.

Unexpectedly, Abby and Rachel burst out of their own hiding places, briefly causing a pause in the action as their seniors stared in shock at this inexplicable move from both girls. Even more shocking is when they aimed their weapons at _345_ and not 300.

* * *

"Clever girl." Nigel smirked as Hoagie and Wally exchanged a high five above his head.

* * *

As the other girls debated over the match, Kuki simply put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

* * *

"Numbuh 11, what is your sister doing!?" 8a asked, nearly spilling his soda.

Because all their charges were in the Exhibition this quarter, Sector V had decided to watch it live rather than in the sanctity of their beloved treehouse. They had commandeered a high terrace for their own use, outfitting it with some comfortable furniture and a small flat-screen above to better keep up with the action. A coffee table was centered between the four, easy to reach and overflowing with snacks and soda.

Ever since the start of the Exhibition, they had been cheering their little cadets on, commentating on the action with a fervor commonly seen in children when watching what they deemed as 'cool'. They had let out a massive, collective yell of joy when Kuki and Wally crossed the line to victory and had silently egged Abby and Rachel on when the Hide and Seek game started, knowing how important it was that the two keep their positions hidden.

But now they were baffled. Because what the two kindergartners were doing just didn't make _sense_.

All, except, to Cree, who _laughed_.

* * *

Unable to react in time, 345 was shot with chili paste and mustard, and promptly collapsed from the shock of both blasts. She groaned, as 300 walked to her, his feet moving as if he were in a daze. Out of instinct, he snagged her streamer, claiming it and removing her from the game permanently. Up on the JumboTron, the clock continued to tick down, with forty-five seconds and counting remaining.

Abby and Rachel immediately rushed _towards_ 300, each trying to reach him before the clock finished. Abby got to him first, and offered her streamer to him, which he took reluctantly. At the sight of that, Rachel tried even faster to reach him, but before she could, the horn sounded, ending the round. She stopped her charge immediately, crossing her arms, and giving a defeated sigh before wagging her pointer finger at Abby, who smirked playfully at her before departing for the chamber.

At the start of the countdown, 300 eyed Rachel suspiciously. She just tilted her head at him before skipping away to a pile of broken debris and diving inside. The older child blinked before sighing and going to hide himself. Once he was hidden, the tension continued to heighten as the count got closer to one. At the count's end, Abby emerged, and looked around.

In another turn, as soon as she appeared, so did Rachel. She cocked her M.U.S.K.E.T. before firing - directly at Numbuh 300's hiding place.

Befitting his station, the operative managed to escape before the blast hit, but his cover was blown. Before he knew it, both Abby and Rachel had converged on him, and were hitting him with everything they had. 300 ran on his side, ducking behind as much debris he could as he fired back. Rachel continued to fire at him as Abby paused her own barrage to charge, darting expertly away from her partner's shots as she got in close.

As soon as she was close enough, Rachel stopped firing. 300 twisted away from her to block Abby's assault, desperately trying to protect his streamer and hold out until the time limit finally ended. It was futile, however - Abby was simply too small and too quick. She ducked under all his blows, jumped, and before she knew it his streamer was in her hand.

The horn sounded again. 300 looked a little shocked, then resigned, then fond. He shook his head in disbelief, before looking at both his charges - his best students - and giving both of them affectionate ruffles to the head, before departing to the exit. Abby and Rachel watched him go, and then looked at each other. As Abby had been the only one of them to be seeker, she was the only who had points in the first place, so it would be her choice.

The two girls smirked at each other and gave a competitive, though friendly clasp of the hands, before separating. Abby headed back towards the chamber, and when she closed the door shut, Rachel made her move. As a consequence of their little confrontation with Numbuh 300, the entire arena was now a wreck, with no visible structure in sight. Everything was splintered, crushed, and broken, two large piles of junk with some debris lying around, mixed in with chilli paste, mustard, and gumballs, and whatever other edible ammunition that the participants had deigned to bring into the game.

That was why the seeker almost always won the last round of the game. Not only because of the extended time limit, but because there was literally nowhere else to hide for their opponents. Sure, they could risk burying themselves beneath the towering heaps, but it would be at the cost of mobility. All it takes is one good shot from whatever weapon the seeker had brought in to bring those heaps down and reveal the quarry beneath, too restricted to escape inevitable capture.

Rachel knew that, perhaps better than anyone. She was also resourceful, however; rather than go for either pile, she instead headed towards the chamber. Those who had been inside the chamber knew how insulated it was, she planned to use that to her advantage. She climbed to the roof of the installation, and leaned against the ice wall, perfectly still. It was by no means a perfect hiding spot. But it was the only one left in the arena that allowed for mobility. The moment Abby saw her, Rachel would know and wouldn't be caught off guard or unable to escape.

Eventually, the horn sounded once again, and Abby jumped out, weapon trained on both piles of debris. Knowing that this was the last round, she discarded any decorum she had left of playing the traditional way and started shooting indiscriminately, watching as chili paste descended upon both heaps. When Rachel failed to appear, however, Abby narrowed her eyes. She turned around - and threw herself to the side to avoid a shot of mustard to her face. Rachel followed her with her M.U.S.K.E.T. and fired again, forcing her to dodge once more.

It was a parody of a carnival game. Wherever Abby went, Rachel aimed for and fired, and while the black girl was agile, her stamina was limited. Nonetheless, she endured, and was careful to aim her lunges so she would close in on the chamber. Rachel noticed soon enough, and just when Abby was one good lunge away from her position, she fired downwards, forcing her opponent to jump back. Knowing that her place atop the chamber was no longer fortified, Rachel aimed another shot down at the floor, keeping Abby away as she jumped down herself. She kept by the arena wall as she ran, firing more shots around Abby's position to keep her from following.

Abby was not deterred, however. There were small bits of untouched floor between Rachel's mustard shots, and enough room around her to get a running head start. She took a deep breath, and then leaped into the air, doing a graceful flip and landing in a picture-perfect handstand, before thrusting herself off into the sky once more. All across the world, children watched in awe as Abby continued to display her amazing gymnastic ability, eventually crossing the mustard-induced threshold in record time.

She reached Rachel on her last jump, and was once again forced to lunge to the side to avoid a mustard shot. This time, however, she had her own weapon in hand, and fired chili-paste in return, forcing Rachel to mimic her actions. A close-range firefight ensued, and endured for two more minutes before both weapons had finally run out of ammo. Not wasting any more time, not when the clock was dwindling second by second, Abby reached for her opponent once more.

Rachel would've backed away, but her space was limited. Knowing that moving anymore would leave her cornered, she sprinted forward and met Abby head on. The two girls engaged one final time, this time in hand-to-hand. Unlike her battle with Nigel, which resembled a fierce dance, this one had a more mechanical grace to it, a certain technicality to it that was expected of two partners who were skilled but lacked a certain familiarity between them. Here, the two could not manipulate each other's moves into their own advantage - no, whoever made the first mistake was the one who would lose.

Eventually, stamina is what broke the stalemate. Since the very beginning, Rachel had forced Abby to expend energy in momentous feats, while she managed to conserve her own by bunkering down and aiming her blaster at her. And while Abby had quite a lot of stamina for her young age, she lacked the sugary deposits of energy that had driven her in the previous timeline, having not yet become the famed candy bounty hunter that had driven sweet connoisseurs mad.

Abby tired, and the moment she fell to her knees, Rachel kicked her away - just in time for the horn to sound and make her victory official.

* * *

Another intermission occurred, this one much longer than the last. The arena needed to be cleaned out and then prepared for the final event, and the KND Construction Corps. needed all the time they could get.

Lucky for them, the hosts of the Exhibition, Numbuh 17 and her male co-anchor, Numbuh 18, had a lot of material to work with. It had been many years since such a strong class of cadets had participated in the showcase, and even then, none had done as well as this class had. Not only had the cadets won the Capture the Flag game in record time, but for the first time ever, the Hide and Seek finals had been between two cadets. To say nothing of the unconventional tactics the girls had implemented towards the end of the game.

With clips to be shown, analysis to be made and interviews to be had, it had been easy for the cadets to finally change out of their armor and slip out of the locker rooms unimpeded. They had met Abby and Rachel in the infirmary, congratulating them on their amazing match, before grilling Nigel on his. Still clad in his armor, Nigel had been instructed to be at the west arena entrance ten minutes to one, the time that his match had been tentatively scheduled for. He had also been informed that a member of Sector L would be present there for a last-minute interview, something he was not looking forward to. He could only imagine what condescending questions Numbuh 17 had planned for a kindergartener cadet, and with his nerves frazzled and on edge, he wasn't sure he could put up enough of an act to pass muster.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do and that worrying about it wasn't going to do him much good, he instead focused on the present, praising his girlfriend and best friend on their well-fought match.

"So, did you guys plan that little ending straight from the beginning or was that a spur-of-the-moment thing?"

Abby gave a tired smile, leaning back in her cot with a half-eaten candy bar in hand. "A bit of both, to be honest. We both knew we were going to be the last two no matter what happened, but when the field narrowed down…"

"...we figured we'd make it a sure thing." Rachel finished for her, smirking.

"Well, you've certainly turned quite a few heads." Hoagie noted, watching the live feed of the Exhibition where they were analyzing the Hide and Seek match. There was a brief debate over whether or not their tactics had been legal, but a quick check-in with a member of Global Command confirmed that there had been nothing in the rule book explicitly forbidding two participants forming an alliance. That would no doubt lead to _another_ debate over whether there should be such a rule over the following week.

Abby snorted. "Like the three of you haven't done the same."

"Point." Wally nodded towards her. "How many sectors are fighting over us right now, you think?"

"Too many." Hoagie sighed. "We're not going to be a team for a while. If ever."

"We'll figure it out, Hoagie." Nigel placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "We always do, don't we?"

"I guess."

"Uh, Cadet Uno?"

The six cadets turned to the nurse, Numbuh 685. She pointed to the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes to one.

"Well, time for me to go." Nigel grabbed his two weapons. "Wish me luck."

"You won't need it, Nigel." Rachel commented, pulling him in for a brief hug. "But we'll wish it for you anyway." Suddenly, she perked up, and separated from him, rummaging in her pockets for something.

Nigel watched her curiously, blinking when she lifted her hands to reveal what she had hidden on her person.

Sunglasses.

He eyed them with a reverent curiosity, taking them from Rachel's hands gingerly, caressing it with a nostalgic tenderness. Slowly, he removed his regular pair of glasses and placed the sunglasses on, smiling at how the world seemed to look... better. _Right_.

He looked at Rachel once more, and a second later, she was in his arms, her comforting weight.

"Thank you."

* * *

Nigel was utterly silent and impassive as he walked down to the corridor, ignoring all the looks being thrown his way. He was trying to calm himself, trying to enter that laser-focused state that had driven him to do great things in his previous life. Right now, on the other side of the arena, Chad Dickson was no doubt impatiently waiting for the doors to open, and he had to be at his best if he had any hope of coming out of this fight in one piece, let alone win.

However, when he arrived to the west gate entrance, he found Numbuh 17 waiting for him with a camera boy by her side, and felt himself panic.

 _Crud. I forgot about the interview!_

"Cadet Uno!"

"Numbuh 17."

She smiled slightly at his serious demeanour, a little pleased that he had recognized her. Cadets weren't one to pay attention to non-combat operatives until they formally entered the organization. "Let's get this interview started, shall we? Don't worry; it'll just be a few softball questions so the viewers have a little insight into what you're like - who knows, you might even get a few fans!"

The younger child gave a short nod, and the two quickly arranged themselves to be side by side, facing the camera, which started rolling. The studio signaled they were on-air, and Nigel smiled, hoping no one would notice how tight his expression was.

"Hello, fellow Kids Next Door. This is Numbuh 17, and beside me is Cadet Nigel Uno, who will be facing Numbuh 274 in the final match of the Quarterly Kids Next Door Exhibition. Cadet Uno has been on a meteoric rise ever since he was first recruited to the program on the recommendation of Sector V, breaking several records and getting the highest midterm exam score in the entire history of the cadet program. This eventually got the attention of Numbuh 274 himself, who personally requested to face Cadet Uno in today's match. So," she turned to face Nigel, who looked up to her with a slightly wary eye. "how did you feel when you heard you'd be facing Numbuh 274 today?"

"Shocked, at first. A little scared." _Just not for the reasons you think._ "But mostly, excited. I mean, Numbuh 274 himself said that he thought only he could push me to do my best. I was flattered to hear that." _Seeing as it's the nicest thing Chad's said about me in years._

"I'd imagine so." Numbuh 17 grinned. "Tell me, how do you think you'll do in today's bout?"

Nigel laughed nervously. It was convincing, at least to his ears. "Well, I hope to win, of course. But I'll also be happy if I manage to put in a good showing. I don't want Numbuh 274's faith in me to be in vain, after all."

Numbuh 17 smiled patronizingly at him. It took all of Nigel's self-control not to glare at her. "I imagine not. Well, we better let you go now - the match is starting in a few minutes. Thank you for your time, Cadet Uno, and we wish you good luck in your match today."

Once they were confirmed to be off-air, the news people bid him farewell, packing up their equipment to head back to the Arctic Base's makeshift studio to prepare for more coverage of the Exhibition. Once they were gone, Nigel turned back to the entrance, the bright light of the arena beckoning to him from the tunnel.

 _Well, it's showtime._

* * *

"Hey, sis." Abby walked towards the center of the terrace, Wally, Kuki, Hoagie, and Rachel all trailing behind her.

Cree, who had been leaning over the railing with the rest of Sector V to get a better look of the arena, turned her head, a bright smile on her face. "Abby!" She sprinted forward, scooping up her younger sister into a big hug.

"Cree…!" Abby yelped, but her smile betrayed her joy.

"You did so well in your match today! I've got to be the proudest big sister in the world right now!"

Abby's expression took on a teasing glint. "Even though I lost?"

"You came in second, girl, which is amazing for a cadet. And besides," Cree smiled down at Rachel, who blushed, "you lost to someone who did pretty well themselves."

"True." Abby conceded. "Now let me down. I want to see Nigel when he enters the arena."

Cree abided by her younger sister's command, though she kept her close as the younger kids made their way towards the edge of the balcony. There, they could see the fully-transformed arena, a perfect mockup of a city street where any KND mission could take place. Storefronts, cars, concrete, even a manhole - everything was there. To their keen eyes, they could spot hidden bits of 2x4 technology, easily concealed thanks to their innocuous components, but still recognizable to any half-decent Kids Next Door operative - or cadet, in this case.

Nigel was the first to enter. Contrary to what many expected, he was calm and confident, walking with a purpose in his step. He looked around slowly, scanning the battlefield, taking in all his surroundings. He looked up, and, after spotting friends, allowed a small smile to grace his lips, waving at them in a controlled manner. Seeing that, they all responded vigorously, everyone shouting various forms of encouragement at him.

"Where'd he get the sunglasses?" Maurice asked, just now noticing the unfamiliar eyewear on the younger boy's face.

"Me." Rachel replied, her gaze soft, never leaving Nigel. "I just felt like they fit him."

"Well, you guessed right." 8b smirked. "They look real good on him."

Suddenly, a hush fell over the entire arena. Footsteps echoed throughout it all, and from the bright light of the opposite entrance, the silhouette of the legendary Numbuh 274 blaring out for everyone to see. The camera feed had changed to broadcast his arrival, his visage gradually becoming more clear and distinct. A cheer, much louder than the one Nigel had received, rang out. All of the terraces at the Arctic Base had been reserved when people heard that Numbuh 274 was participating in this quarter's exhibition. Sector V had already reserved their spot before the announcement was made, knowing that at least one of their charges would make it in, so they had beaten the rush; others had not been so lucky.

It seemed everyone wanted to see 274 in action. Despite his young age, Chad had built himself up a reputation in a remarkably short amount of time, culminating in his defeat of the Grown-Up Gorilla Gang a year prior, which snagged him the title of "best there is" - much like the previous timeline. He was admired everywhere, by everyone, even those considerably older than him. It helped that he was an early bloomer, and that with his current height, he could pass as much older. In fact, the difference in size was the first discernible difference between him and his opponent. Nigel would've been smaller even if he had been the same age as Chad; as a kindergartener, he was positively tiny in comparison.

The other young recruits could all sense a wave of discontent when the physical disparity became apparent. Many had come here to see Numbuh 274 fight, and it had finally become apparent that, on the surface, Nigel wouldn't pose much of a challenge. He may have been this quarter's top scorer and best cadet since 274, but he was exactly that: a _cadet_. A five-year-old cadet, with little-to-no real life combat experience. What chance did he have against Numbuh 274?

As they later found out, more than anyone could have expected.

Far, _far_ more.

* * *

If Nigel was aware of the dour thoughts of the live audience, he didn't show it. Instead he was watching Chad carefully, trying to discern any sort of recognition on the older boy's face. However, there was none; only that small, imperceptible smile - the same one he had worn when he had first fought Nigel in the previous timeline, so unexpectedly it had left the cadet dazed and in disbelief. His eyes were obscured by his classic fringe, hidden thanks to that old samurai helmet of his, leaving Nigel without that tell as well. Chad was almost unreadable, and that alone was enough for Nigel to keep up his guard. This would not be an easy fight.

It was an Exhibition tradition for the participants of the main event to shake hands before they went at it. Fostered good sportsmanship, no hard feelings, confidence-building, etc. So, reluctantly, Nigel walked to the center of the structured arena to meet Chad before they ripped each other to pieces. He was careful not to show his nervousness, walking with a self-assuredness that was more characteristic of the legendary Numbuh 1 than Cadet Uno. Judging by the slight twinge in Chad's jaw, it seemed he noticed the similarities.

Finally, they met. With his new sunglasses, nobody noticed the way Nigel's eyes were narrowed in suspicion. He held out his hand, casually, and Chad grasped it, his movements just as controlled and even.

"Cadet Uno."

"Numbuh 274." Pause. "Sir."

"Are you ready?"

"Always, sir."

"Good."

There was nothing left to be said. They both turned away - and the horn sounded.

Nigel immediately ducked to dodge the kick aimed straight at his head.

* * *

"That was quick." Cree blinked. "Was it a mistake?"

"No way." Maurice shook his head. "They did it on purpose. This is supposed to be a match to show off Nigel's skills, and Numbuh 274 himself said that he didn't think Nigel could do his best against anyone except him, and you know as well I do that he doesn't say something like that lightly. He must've known Nigel would've been able to dodge that."

"But why bother?" she asked, watching as Nigel continued to dodge and block 274's fast and furious blows. "What purpose does attacking when his back is turned serve?"

Her friend shrugged. "Any number of things: speed, skill, situational awareness, alertness; all valid and well-valued traits in a decent operative. The kind of operative you want on your team."

"He wants to push Nigel to his limits." Everyone turned to Hoagie, who was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Maurice said it himself: he said Nigel can't perform his best with anyone but him. He thinks that no one else in the KND - or at least in the Arctic Base - can push Nigel to his limits. And considering the purpose of the Exhibition, that's a problem; there's no way the KND can use Nigel's full capabilities if only a limited number of people are aware of what he was actually capable of."

Kuki, who had been following his words closely, smiled, giggling. "So he requested Nigel for the final match so everyone could see what he could do."

"Right. Numbuh 274 is thinking about the _future_. Sure, he - and Numbuh 100 - are the big heroes now, but they aren't going to be around forever. So, 274 wants there to be another inspiration, another big name to remain after they're gone, and he thinks Nigel is it. And he wants everyone to know it."

"But is he?" Maurice asked, looking skeptical. It made sense, but still… "I mean, don't get me wrong - Nigel's good. Really good. Better than I was in cadet training, all of us really." He gestured to the rest of Sector V, who shrugged and nodded in agreement. There was no falsehood there. "But he's still a _cadet_. He's still got years to grow and live up to the potential he has. Why is 274 pushing him so hard now?"

Their charges shared a look. They had a feeling they knew exactly why Chad was bothering with this now.

Finally, Hoagie shrugged, a nonchalant look on his face. "He must have something planned for Nigel after graduation."

* * *

Numbuh 100 watched the ongoing fight intently. On the outside, he was the picture-perfect Soopreme Leaduh, seated commandingly, almost regally, on a tall, plush-armchair as he watched the live fight from his own terrace - the biggest one in the arena, luxuriously furnished (by KND standards) and populated by a number of high-ranking officials, all of whom are watching the ongoing battle between their top operative and top cadet with rapture.

When Numbuh 274 had requested to participate in the Exhibition this quarter, 100 had not been lying when he said that he was surprised. Of course, it was not for the stated reason he had delivered to his subordinates in his speech at the quarterly announcements - he, like any tenured Kids Next Door operative, knew what the final event of the Exhibition was usually used for, and found it hard to believe that ever-so-gracious Chad Dickson would ever hold a petty grudge against some wide-eyed cadet, no matter how arrogant and obnoxious they could be. He _knew_ Chad, had trained the boy himself when he was head of the cadet program, and had kept him close as they both rose up in the ranks.

It had been especially shocking that it was Cadet Uno of all people that somehow seemed to offend his friend. By all accounts, Cadet Uno was an all-star recruit, the best since 274 himself. On top of excelling and exceeding every challenge thrown at him, the child was the perfect soldier: polite, respectful, and obedient, but not overtly so. He was a strong believer in the cause and courteous to all his fellow cadets, despite his young age. The only disconcerting thing about him was his lack of... _exuberance_ , the enthusiasm that was usually easily found in someone his age. Not to say Cadet Uno was totally unfeeling, considering the reports of the camaraderie between him and the younger recruits in his class, but it was strange, no less.

He wasn't sure Chad had even spoken to Cadet Uno in person before the Exhibition; he had deliberately avoided the younger recruits this quarter, citing that they needed no help from him and would do fine on their own. While he was correct (an understatement, really - this quarter's children would probably be sitting on this terrace watch an Exhibition themselves one day judging by their scores), it was still rather peculiar behavior for his top operative. Chad had always gone to ingratiate himself to the younger recruits and give them advice, even if they didn't really need it. And while he had been a bit... _off_ since he had to take a week off for the flu all those months ago, that tradition hadn't changed after he returned. So why had it now?

100 knew better than to voice his thoughts aloud. Numbuh 274 was admired, and beloved, and adored, but he had few friends, and while 100 was one of them, no friend of 274 had ever been allowed to peer into the legendary operative's head. So, he kept his mouth shut about that and instead asked about why he wanted to face Uno. The child was their top prospect, and it was best to show him off to the rest of the KND without having him mangled by their personal celebrity. 274 had fed him some tripe about how Uno couldn't "fulfill his potential" in those games and insisted he could do the boy justice; 100 didn't believe him, but granted his request anyway, and figured if the boy was good enough, something like this wouldn't slow down his career too much. More than a fair few top-class operatives had gone through this humiliation and come out of it all the better for it.

Now, looking at the ongoing proceedings, it seemed he had been wrong about everything. Uno was doing perfectly fine - better than fine, truthfully. He was actually _matching_ 274 in direct combat, something that he thought only himself and a select few others in the organization were capable of. Perhaps that tripe Chad had given him wasn't tripe after all. Either that or Chad was more truthful than he himself had realized.

And then Nigel Uno draws out three marbles, throws them up into the air and shoots them, triggering a massive explosion that separates him and his opponent onto opposite sides of the arena.

When the smoke clears, the cameras reveal that Chad has covered his nose and mouth to prevent inhalation. There is, however, no mistaking the smirk on his face.

100 realizes it is indeed the former, and stares at Nigel Uno, and wonders if he is staring at the Kids Next Door's next great legend.

* * *

Numbuh 345 had pointedly kept the B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. incident out of her mind ever since Numbuh 274 had - subtly - suggested she did. There are no more leads, he said, Cadet Uno is fine he said, it was most likely a mistake by a junior operative he said, and 345 hemmed and hawed at a boy three years her junior and agreed. It was an isolated incident after all, nothing else like it had targeted Uno or the rest of the cadets since, and all this incident had proven was the Uno was far more capable than the standard cadet and even many of their operatives. The only real side effect is that when people saw the boy's test scores, they no longer gaped in disbelief and wonder if there was a mistake, but instead smiled and smirked and patted him in the back, while the instructors felt the pride for training a boy they all knew was going to go far - farther than all of them except, perhaps, Numbuh 274.

She put it out of her mind, and that was the end of it.

But Numbuh 345 was not a stupid girl. She didn't get to where she was by being anything less than the best. And as she continued to watch the ongoing fight from the instructor's lounge, the pervading awed silence of the room did nothing to penetrate the dread in her heart.

345 finally knew who the culprit was. And if she said a word, the decommissioning chambers would be the least of her problems.

* * *

Sector L has been the headquarters of the Kid Nightly News since the reign of Numbuh 999, the second Soopreme Leaduh of the Seventh Age, after Numbuh 0 himself. While kids would never fully trust adults (and rightfully so), there were many concepts that adults had created that they were forced to admit had some merit - and a daily news program was one of them. One of the downfalls of the Sixth Age had been their refusal to adapt with the times, failing to adopt some of their more modern advancements of widespread society and falling behind their enemies, eventually causing their demise and leading to the rise of Grandfather.

This failure was both in technology and in mores; the Sixth Age was the only era of the organization where girls were not allowed to join the Kids Next Door, earning themselves the enmity of several female enemies, the most prominent being the Annoyingly Cute Triplets Who Lived Upon the Hill. This distrust extended to adults: while the KND was created to fight adult _tyranny_ , the Sixth Age would make you believe otherwise. Either that, or that their definition of _tyranny_ was wildly different from the modern one. And the ancient one. And so on. They were indiscriminate in their attacks against adults, which created an underlying wave of resentment that festered. When the KND's enemies banded together and mounted one final attack, there was no aid to be found from anyone, and so came their end. When history looked back, they would find the Sixth Age to be the shortest of all eras of the Kids Next Door, last a scant five generations, considered a blight and comparatively small regression in the ever-evolving organization.

When the Seventh Age started, it was an unspoken agreement among the first few generations, those who had lived under Grandfather's reign, to never repeat the mistakes of the Sixth Age and allow another evil adult like their former despot to rule again. And to aid in this endeavor, Sector L was born. Numbuh 999 had determined that one of the reasons why the Sixth Age was so intolerant was because of the failure to disseminate information properly - the operatives were unable to connect with each other due to their unknowing ignorance, and with outsiders for similar reasons. So, she formed a new sector of journalistically-inclined operatives, gave them some spiel of inclusion and duty, and allowed them free-reign over the news program. After the first few disastrous attempts, the kinks had been ironed out, Numbuh 999 gave her seal of approval, and the Kid Nightly News (or KNN, as it came to be known) entered the airwaves on the newly established KND channel, which could only be accessed from the organization's personal satellites.

Numbuh 999 knew that missions limited the amount of time sectors had to actually watch the news, so while she mandated everyone had to watch the program, they only had to watch it once a week. Sector L would record one episode encompassing any news they felt was pertinent to the organization, and that episode would play on loop, interspersed with episodes of cartoons and _Dr. Time-Space and the Continuums_ , on the KND channel, for one week before they did another one and replaced it with that. But as the KND grew, so did the news that needed to be covered, and after Numbuh 999's decommissioning, Sector L was expanded. Now, it was one of the largest sectors in the entire Kids Next Door, with members numbering just below the Moon Base and Arctic Base and above the Deep Sea Science Lab. The KND Channel now had live news coverage, to be viewed 24/7 by operatives from all across the globe, with optional subtitles for those that were less versed in the KND official language of English.

After the establishment of the Kids Next Door Cadet Exhibition, Sector L had been instructed to cover the event live and broadcast it to all sectors from then on, four times a year. A studio was constructed in the Arctic Base, complete with screens and a commentators' booth for the benefit of the viewing audience. Initially only the event itself was covered, with the rest of the KND channel covering the usual 24/7 news cycle. But as the Exhibition was refined, the coverage expanded into an all-day event, start from nine in the morning and concluding at five at night. Recaps of the announcements, stats about the participants (both cadet and operative), interviews with operatives who came to see the event live, including routine one with the current sitting Soopreme Leaduh. Even a panel with some of their own operatives, analyzing the stats, rumors about the cadets, and determining potential winners based on their own personal opinions. After the event officially ended, there was a two hour-post show with the hosts, who would interview some of the participants and recapping some of the big moments of the Exhibition. The entire program would be replayed for the next week at the same time slot, barring major news updates, before the recordings were interred into the archives for posterity.

This quarter's program was perhaps the most exciting yet. On top of having the more cadets under the age of eight than over (the most in the entire history of the Cadets Next Door), Numbuh 274, Commander of the Arctic Base and widely regarded as the best Kids Next Door operative in the organization (above even Numbuh 100), was taking part. The hosts, KNN's main anchors Numbuhs 17 and 18, lavished all their attention on him - and on his opponent, Cadet Nigel Uno. Intrigued, they had done a great amount of research on Cadet Uno, and when the day arrived, pulled together a comprehensive and detailed profile of him, including his classes, rankings, and, most notably, his exam scores. The B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. incident, which was quickly becoming legend amongst the occupants of the Arctic Base, was extensively covered, with even a clip aired for everyone to see.

The panelists spent more time wondering how long Uno was going to last. There was no question of the winner, it was Numbuh 274 after all, but Uno had proven himself impressive all the same. Best scores and rankings since 274, defeating a B.L.I.T.Z.-W.O.L.F. as a mere cadet - it was obvious he was anything but ordinary, and everyone wanted to see how far he could go. There was a short waning of eagerness when Uno's age became apparent, but that was quickly dashed away when the match started. He was holding his own, and even fighting back, and it looked like that wouldn't be changing for a while yet.

Numbuh 18 in particular was quite eager at how well Uno was doing. He had secretly betted a portion of his candy share on Uno lasting at least twenty minutes on the not-as-secret-as-kids-think Kids Next Door underground gambling pool, and so far the kid had proven that this was not ill-advised. He whooped when Uno exchanged his M.U.S.K.E.T. for a hidden B.I.R.D.I.E. and was now firing at 274, who had hidden himself behind a car to avoid getting shot.

"It seems you've become quite a fan of Cadet Uno, 18." Numbuh 17 commented, highly amused. She knew exactly why he was so excited.

Numbuh 18 shrugged, grinning like a loon. "What can I say? The kid's good, and he's got a lot of moxie too. What's not to like? He might even win!"

Numbuh 17 shook her head. "Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Cadet Uno's good, but that's Numbuh 274 down there, and he hasn't even gotten started on showing us what he can _really_ do yet."

As if to make her a prophet, 274 burst out of his hiding spot, having managed to acquire a long-range F.R.A.P.P.E., and locked on his opponent. With a click he fired, icing the roofs of the stores where Uno had hidden himself. Uno immediately dived backwards, towards the back of the storefronts which had been built against the walls of the arena. No longer able to see, the older boy climbed up the front of the stores, using the tops of cars and signs for boosts and leverage. Finally, he landed on the roofs of the storefronts on the opposite side of the street where Uno was. He eyed the tall, jagged wall of ice, just waiting for some sign of life.

Unbeknownst to him, Uno had used the wall of ice for cover to dive back downstairs to the insides of the stores below. Safe for the moment, he began assemblage of another weapon: a sausage bomb. Two sausage bombs, in fact. Once they were finished, he quietly crawled over to the front of the store, careful to avoid 274's gaze. Using a makeshift launcher, he activated a bomb, launching it directly into the store directly below the base commander.

274 only had a few precious seconds to register the sound of breaking glass before he was forced to leap forward into the street below to avoid the exploding store, landing on the roof of another car feet first. Before he could get any reprieve however, another bomb was fired, this time landing directly at the foot of the car. He immediately back-flipped away, landing on the top of another car, and then another and another, trying to put as much distance as possible before -

 _BOOM_!

* * *

People winced at the chain reaction. Thanks to Uno's attack, the entire west side of the constructed street was now a charred wasteland, the faint, dying flames of the explosion licking the blackened debris. 274, realizing that his opponent had finally run out of those sausage bombs, moved to finish him off with his F.R.A.P.P.E. - only to realize the weapon wasn't _firing_. He looked down, and almost cursed out loud: the inner chamber where the ice cream was converted into ice had pieces of sausage lodged in it, rendering the entire mechanism damaged. His F.R.A.P.P.E. was now little more than a fancy-looking club.

The sound of crunched iced glass causes him to look up. Uno is charging, a long, thin pole in his hand, and he's already on him, so 274 does the only thing he can - he blocks the descending staff with his new club, and again, and again, and he thinks it's no longer so useless. Then Uno vaults himself forward with his pole and kicks it away, and 274 is forced to reconsider his opinion once more. So he blocks the next swing, and breaks the pole in two, and now he has a weapon of his own.

He holds it up, and points, and beckons.

Uno gives the slightest of smiles, then kicks off a nearby wall to swing right at his head.

* * *

Another thirty minutes later, and everyone, even Sector V, is silent.

The arena's a complete wreck, both sides of the street now broken piles of rubble, and the two combatants are _still_ fighting. The destruction of the east side had been Numbuh 274's handiwork, a beautiful rigging of a food-processor fuel drive to super-charge a particularly volatile chemistry concoction. That had been ten minutes ago, and the fact that dear Cadet Uno had not only foreseen that but had the wit to shield himself using a metal shield comprised of a cheap barbecue and a particularly resilient refrigerator was enough to convince everyone it hadn't been overkill on 274's part after all.

Now the two were back to another sniper battle, hiding and diving everywhere that wasn't sharp, rough and lethal. The viewing audience is dazed, wondering _why_ they're still fighting.

"You five don't look surprised." Cree comments drily, somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.

"Nigel's really good!" Kuki chirps, then gobbles down another nacho.

The exceptions were, of course, the young cadets. They all are still watching the fight eagerly, whooping whenever their friend does something ingenious, amazing, and unthinkable, commenting on strategies, fighting techniques - essentially the job that the commentators gave up on around fifteen minutes ago, too stunned to say anything more.

"Good? _Good_? Your friend is going toe-to-toe with _Numbuh 274_!" Maurice nearly screeches, just barely managing to dial down the volume of his voice to respectable levels. Even so, other operatives from the surrounding terraces are broken from their reverie ever so briefly to stare at him.

The young Asian girl blinked innocently up at him. "So?"

Maurice was ready to explode. "So -"

A hand slaps itself over Maurice's mouth. "What Numbuh 9 means to say is that this is a little... _surprising_." Numbuh 8a spoke diplomatically, trying to keep his friend restrained.

"Yeah." Numbuh 8b nodded. "We all knew Nigel was good, and we all knew he was going to do well. Just not... _this_ well."

"It's been an hour and your boy and 274 are still at it." Cree stated bluntly, knowing that sugarcoating it wasn't going to get her team anywhere. "He's five. He shouldn't be this good yet. What are you hiding, Abby?"

Abby shrugs. "We ain't hiding anything, sis."

"Don't feed me that crud, girl. _Please_." Cree sighed, having given up on watching the fight for a brief moment.

"I'm not feeding you any crud, Cree." Abby spoke purely, and Cree almost believed her.

"Fine, don't tell me." The older girl threw her hands up in the air, then points directly at her little sister. "I _will_ find out one day, though."

Abby shrugged once more. "Whatever you say, girl. Whatever you say."

* * *

Nigel has cuts and bruises all over him. The smoke has stained some of his pale skin. He feels his joints, both loose and stiff, muscles burning, and knows - _knows_ \- that he's going to be sore tomorrow. And probably for the rest of the week.

Thankfully, it was Thanksgiving break. Small mercy, but a mercy no less.

And despite all that, he had never felt this good in a long time. While he had never regretted leaving the Kids Next Door when it was time, moving on with his life, with Rachel and the bright future that they had never quite envisioned growing up to be until they were old enough to really understand, he couldn't deny that he had missed this. Because he had. He had missed all of it.

Of course, it would be Chad to remind him of all that. Chad had feared growing up too, had done everything in his power to avoid that fate without compromising his loyalty, and while he too had finally learned to let go, he still loved it all as much as Nigel did. That had been another flaw in their friendship - they had been too much alike. It was what allowed them to bond so easily, and yet, when the pain came, they were far too proud and far too angry to rebuild the bridge.

Time did little to change all that. But this did, if only a little bit.

Nigel broke from his thoughts, ducking down to avoid Chad's next salvo. That was really starting to get annoying. He aims his B.I.R.D.I.E. - the modified dart gun only has one shot left, and he's going to make it count. He pulls the trigger, allows himself a small smile of victory when the dart slams into the weapon in Chad's end, piercing the hull and leaving it another useless bit of junk. There was quite a lot of that strewn about.

Knowing that there was no point in hiding, he jumped out, carefully watching the way Chad moved himself into a defensive posture, not even trying to reach for a weapon. All the little hidden 2x4 technology nuggets that had left behind for them at the start of the match were long gone, used up or destroyed or even more likely, both. Nigel mirrored him, throwing his B.I.R.D.I.E. far away; it was no longer of any use to him.

Chad watched him, and then, deciding something, loosened his stance. The entire world watched with bated breath as he ripped away his signature helmet, allowing his blond locks, rough and a little seared, to bounce freely away. The helmet was thrown away, and everyone was privy to the expression on his face, the wide, wild grin, tinged with just a hint of blood lust. Nigel quickly followed his lead, removing his own helmet to reveal a shining, bald head.

When he officially joined the cadet program, he had used his privileges to procure the services of Sector HH and shave off all his hair. His parents still didn't know what to think of his decision, but Nigel hadn't cared for their opinions or anyone else's for that matter - he had lived most of his life without hair, had been happy with that, and didn't see why that had to change. His only regret was that, as it currently stood, his hair would grow back.

But as blinding and distracting as Nigel's bald head was to the viewers, it was not nearly as shocking as the expression on Nigel's face. It perfectly matched Chad's, eager, promising violence with the glint of his teeth. And then Nigel charged, and then the two were on each other like no one else in the world mattered but them.

Those who had been privy to Nigel and Rachel's spar a month prior were stricken by the contrast. The two cadets had been graceful in their engagement, a crisp dance that had left them all breathless. Nigel and Chad, however, embodied war; broad strokes, staccato reprieves, not an inch of kindness to be found anywhere. But there was a flow to it, like there had been with Rachel. An indication that this was a battle only they could have, that they knew each other in a way that few others did - though only the most experienced and talented hand-to-hand fighters would be able to pick it up.

Nigel twisted and turned and flipped and leaned back, and ever so occasionally, blocked. Of the two, he had always been the more limber, the more acrobatic, of them. Chad, however, always had the power and endurance, and it showed with every blow he made. Air buzzed with every strike, concrete shattered whenever it hit the ground below. But other than that, they had always been evenly matched in everything - speed, skill, agility, experience, stamina and instinct. Here and now, even with these prepubescent bodies, that had not changed. They were still equals, still the best of the best with no one else even close to comparing.

As the fight continued, they treated their audience to many interesting sights, including:

Chad grabbing Nigel mid-air and throw him into one of the piles of debris.

Nigel sweeping Chad's legs out from under him and kneeing him in the chin as he fell.

Chad grabbing the younger boy by his arms and slamming face forward into the ground.

Nigel elbowing him in the gut, then using a judo throw to flip him over his shoulder and onto the asphalt.

And, perhaps the crowner, a simultaneous headbutt that left them both reeling.

It was exhausting just watching them, but no one could turn away.

Then, quick and sudden and unexpected, the end came. Nigel used a particularly large debris to kick off of and land a flying punch, at the same time Chad thrusted himself forward to land his own blow. They both connected with their respective hits - and subsequently flew backwards unto the floor, out cold.

Everyone stared.

Finally, someone managed to jolt Numbuh 683 out of his stupor, and he jumped down to the arena to look over both combatants. Then, with strength he didn't know he still had, he announced the decision.

"It's a draw!"

* * *

"A draw, huh?"

"Impressive."

"The rookie's not bad, not bad at all."

"You think he might be the one?"

"Well, Numbuh 100 has given us leeway so far, but we've only got so long. Better this kid than someone who doesn't know the right end of a S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R."

"So, we're in agreement?"

"Yup."

Bruce smiled and crossed his arms.

"Sector Z will request Cadet Uno for membership at Graduation."

* * *

This is almost 14,000 words.

Do not complain about the long wait.

And to my beta, Kara Smoak, I am both appreciative and apologetic.

Also, it will be a while before the next update. Partially because of this (I need to get my notes aligned for the next couple of chapters), and partially because I'm inspired for the next few chapters of THaB, since the next season of the Arrowverse is starting up soon. If you hadn't read THaB but are also a fan of the Arrowverse, I highly recommend it.


End file.
